


Let's Get Familiar

by Vellenox



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Coffee Shop, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Familiars, Fluff, M/M, Physical Abuse, Smut, Spirit Animals, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-27
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2017-12-21 12:14:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 13
Words: 49,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/900193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vellenox/pseuds/Vellenox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The teens of Beacon Hill are living in a world of familiars - animals that take on a form to reflect the one their human counterparts are connected to. Without their counterparts, humans become emotionless husks, and the familiars die. Strange events have begun to transpire... bodies have started to litter the outskirts of town, separated from their familiars. No one knows how it's possible, no one knows whose responsible for the ever increasing pile of bodies. It's up to the teens of Beacon Hills to confront an unknown foe and save the ones they love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Stiles was having a good dream. A really, _really_ good dream. It was one of those dreams where it was vivid enough that it felt like real life; everything was sharp and in focus, and though some of it didn’t make sense (like the purple cat walking around in the background, or the random clown that kept honking his nose and then disappearing; don’t ask) the rest of the dream made up for it.

He would’ve been content to live inside that dream world for the rest of his life; no cares or worries, no homework, and to top it all off: Lydia Martin was kissing down his neck, leaving red lipstick marks as she did. Her fingers were tugging at his jeans, and she was whispering something to him through that sly little grin of hers, but just as a hand pressed on his chest he could feel himself stirring.

The sharpness of the dream began to fade, and Lydia went along with it. There was a heaviness on his chest to replace her; but not from heartache. He forced an eye open, blearily blinking back the sleepiness.

Todd was sitting on his chest, peering down at him with a tilted head and slanted eyes. Stiles groaned.

“Seriously dude? You had to wake me up just when things were starting to get good?” He asked, and he tried to be irritated – he really did – but it was hard to be anything but endeared by the fox currently crushing his ribs. Stiles ran his fingers through Todd’s fur; it was soft and comforting as always. Todd leaned into the touch, nuzzling Stiles’s hand with his nose. “You realize if you ever cock block me in real life I’m going to have to disown you.” Stiles dead-panned.

Todd let out a huff, and it was totally full of attitude.

“No, no, no. I don’t _care_ if you’re my familiar. I’m sure there’s some way I can find myself another one. One that appreciates me and knows not to wake me up any time before _noon_.” Stiles said, looking over at his alarm clock to see that it read _9:45 AM_. He sighed, patting Todd’s head gently. “I should probably get up and head over to Scott’s anyways, he’ll probably wanna chill one last day before school starts.”

Todd jumped off of Stiles’s chest, the force of the spring knocking the breath out of him. He cursed under his breath, shooting his fox an unimpressed look before shoving his covers down to his feet and hopping out of bed.

He got changed and bounded down the stairs, Todd hot on his heels. His dad was already at work probably, but his mom was still in the kitchen; the smell of bacon and eggs thick in the air. Stiles’s mouth watered, and the fox’s nose sniffed at the air eagerly.

Rae, his mother’s familiar, lifted her head at his approach, her tail shooting up and alerting his mother to his presence. Rae was a deer and Oscar, his father’s familiar, was a stag. Sometimes that happened; two people with the same genus familiars found each other, but only rarely. It was a sign that they were soul mates – meant to be together since birth.

“Morning Genim! Todd. It’s nice to see you up so early, bright-eyed and bushy tailed.” She smiled at her son and gave him a good morning kiss on the cheek. He pretended to be agitated, wiping at the spot where she’d kissed him, but she just laughed and rolled her eyes. “I guess since you’re going into your last year of high school, you’re too old for me to smother you in kisses, hmm?” She asked, planting another kiss on his cheek. He tried to squirm away, but she kissed him on the other cheek and then tapped her finger against his nose. “Are you too old for blueberry pancakes too?”

Stiles peered over her shoulder at the counter to see she had a bowl already full of pancake batter, a smaller bowl of blueberries next to it. “Mom. There will never be a time when I’m too old or too cool, or too much of anything, for blueberry pancakes.” He grabbed her shoulders and planted an obnoxious kiss on her forehead before moving her aside and approaching the counter.

He mixed the blueberries into the batter and got started helping his mom make breakfast. While he loaded up a frying pan with the batter, his mom tended to the bacon and eggs she was making for herself. They chattered a bit, just about his first day tomorrow, and if he was going to try out for lacrosse again this year or decide on another sport; like maybe soccer or baseball – preferably anything that didn’t require him to bash into other guys twice his size and risk brutally mutilating himself (well, that’s the way his mother put it).

When they sat down at the dining room table to continue their discussion on the merits of lacrosse (which, again, his mom didn’t see any merits in the sport – she really wished he’d try out for cheerleading or something; which, mom, no), Stiles slipped a few pieces of bacon under the table, which Todd ate enthusiastically. His mom caught him and shooed the fox away, giving Stiles a stern look, and he promised he wouldn’t do it again.

Except he totally would, and did less than five minutes later.

His punishment was to clean up the dishes and put the leftovers away, which he usually did anyways so really it wasn’t much of a penance. He raced upstairs and brushed his teeth, fixed his messy hair in the mirror as much as he could without making it look too much like it had any effort behind it, and then he grabbed his phone off his bedside table and headed for the front door.

He yelled over his shoulder that he was heading to Scott’s, and his mom told him to have a good time, as well as to tell Melissa that they were still on for their movie date that night. He promised he would and then he was out the door, hopping into his jeep with Todd in the seat beside him, the little fox’s head hanging leisurely out the window, his tongue flapping in the wind.

΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅

“Scott! Stiles is here for you!” Scott pushed away from his desk, almost accidentally rolling over Copper’s tail. The Burmese Mountain dog, although still not quite at his full size, jumped up instantly, almost knocking Scott over.

Scott let out a surprised yelp, his arms flailing to grab hold of something to steady him. Copper barked, the volume of it shaking Scott’s ear drums. Luckily the bed was there to catch him, so instead of face-planting on the floor, he fell onto the springy mattress. Crisis averted. “Yeah! Send him up!” Scott hollered to his mom, and he rolled over onto his back. He stared up at the ceiling until he heard a rasp on his door.

There was a whimpering sound as Todd bounded into the room after Stiles, the small fox making his presence known before he pounced on Copper’s tail. Copper huffed and snorted at the fox, raising a paw and playfully swatting at the fox’s nose. Every time the two familiars touched it sent a strange vibe through Scott and Stiles both; it wasn’t intimate in anything more than a strictly platonic way, but it still felt strange.

The normal etiquette between people and their familiars was to never let their familiars touch. Mostly because of the sensations that transferred – sometimes intense emotions trickled through the bonds – and it was seen as invasive. Stiles and Scott had known each other practically since conception though; their mothers had been in the same baby classes together, and were still best friends to this day.

Since Scott and Stiles were practically brothers, it was natural that their familiars would treat each other as such – nipping at each other, play fighting – so they were used to it now.

“Hey bro! I’m surprised to see you up this early. Weren’t you in, like, summer hibernation mode?” Scott asked as Stiles took a seat in Scott’s desk chair, spinning around a couple times before stopping to shrug and look over at Todd.

“Yeah, but it’s not really summer any more, unfortunately. School tomorrow, remember? We’re gonna be seniors? Our last year and everything? Or did you forget?” Stiles asked. Scott laughed.

“Yeah, no, I know. But I thought you would’ve cherished your last day of freedom.” Scott sat up and patted the bed beside him, signalling for Copper to rejoin him. His faithful companion snapped to attention right away and hopped up onto the bed, leaving Todd sitting on the ground, looking up at the both of them with a pair of sad, pleading eyes. Scott supressed a smile, rolling his eyes and patting the bed again. “Alright, you too.”

Todd let out an excited yip and bounced up, digging himself a cozy spot in the covers before curling up in it and looking over at Stiles. “That’s why I’m here buddy! We’re gonna spend our last day of summer doing whatever the hell we want!” He threw his arms up, fisting the air in triumph; though Scott didn’t see what there was to be so enthusiastic about.

“So, like, playing video games?” Scott asked, not sure what else there was for them to do. Stiles scoffed, waving off the suggestion and dismissing it entirely.

“No. More like hitting up the theatre, or maybe, I don’t know, checking out the crime scene my dad got called in for this morning?” Stiles asked hopefully. Scott laughed out loud harshly, shaking his head.

“Definitely not doing that.” He answered and stood from his bed. “Don’t you get enough excitement from cherry bombing Mr. Harris’s mailbox?” Scott asked, his tone resigned. Stiles had dragged him into enough trouble over the years, maybe it was time for the pranking to simmer down a little. They were going to be seniors after all – practically adults. They had to set a good example… right?

The devious gleam in Stiles’s eyes said, _nope_.

“That’s child’s play considering what I’m thinking about pulling for the senior prank this year.” He chuckled maniacally, ominously bringing his hands together and thoughtfully placing his index fingers against his chin. “I’m gonna need some chains and a truck load of rubber ducks.”

Scott so did not want to know. “Senior prank day is an entire year away man, can we please just focus on… getting through the school year without getting suspended?” They’d never actually been suspended before, but they’d come pretty close with the Wasp’s Nest incident of Year Ten, which honestly wasn’t as bad as it sounded.

Stiles sighed, slumping back in the desk chair and dramatically looking out the window. “I guess…” Todd yipped from the bed, getting Stiles’s attention. “Have you eaten yet?” He asked Scott as he straightened himself back out in the chair.

“Yeah, but before we head out I just have to call Deaton and confirm what my hours are for this week.” He’d been doing full-time at the clinic for almost the entire summer now, but since he was going back to school he’d had to cut his hours back down to part-time. Deaton understood, and was extremely sympathetic about the whole thing. He knew that school came first.

Stiles waited patiently – or, well, as patiently as a guy like Stiles could ever be – jiggling his leg up and down and tapping his fingers against his knee. Deaton picked up on the third ring.

“Hello Scott! Is everything okay?” Deaton sounded chipper, as usual.

“Yeah! Everything’s cool. I just wanted to double check what days you need me in this week? Just Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday, right?” Scott had offered to work Monday and Thursday too, but Deaton was quite adamant that Scott take off both days because it was Scott’s first week back at school.

“That’s right. Four o’clock sharp. Are you still available? Because if not that’s fine.” Deaton replied and Scott shook his head.

“No, no, it’s all good. Just wanted to make sure. I guess I’ll see you Wednesday.” Scott said and Deaton replied in the affirmative, and told Scott to have a pleasant day. As soon as Scott hit the end button Stiles was up and dragging Scott out of the bedroom and out the front door. They only paused when Melissa asked them what they were going to get up to for the day. “I don’t know, we’ll probably grab lunch somewhere and then hit the mall or something.” Scott shrugged.

She raised an eyebrow, told them to be safe and not to get into too much trouble, and then Stiles was off again. Copper and Todd jumped into the back before Scott climbed into shotgun. Stiles started up the jeep and then they were off, ambling towards town at an _almost_ lawful pace.

“Alright Scotty, where we heading to?” Stiles asked, and Scott replied with an uncertain shrug. “You gotta make a decision man, otherwise we’re swinging by 122 Ainslie Drive.” That address didn’t sound familiar to Scott.

“What’s over there?” He asked, wondering if a new shop had opened or something.

“The crime scene. Apparently they found some dead chick.” Stiles said, with a bit too much excitement. “But get this, they only found _her_. She didn’t have her familiar with her.” When a person died, so did their familiar. There were rare cases where a familiar would die and the person would live, but they weren’t much of a person after half of them got butchered like that.

Familiars were like extensions of the human soul, embodying who that person truly was on a more spiritual level. There were some people that thought familiars took the form of the animal that best represented the sort of person that the human was. Scott didn’t really know if that was true or not, because he’d met a few people who’d had the same familiar and were actually completely opposite of one another.

And he’d also met people who had vastly different familiars who were actually very much the same in personality and behaviours.

There were a few books written on the subject, but Scott wasn’t really interested enough to read them.

“Come on, let’s hit a café or something, and then we’ll decide what to do. I’ll think better once I have a bit of food in my stomach.” Scott said, resting his head back and closing his eyes. He was still a little tired, only having had six hours of sleep the previous night. After an entire summer long of sleeping for twelve hours each night, it was a rather painful adjustment to make.

Stiles grinned. “Deal. And I know the perfect café to check out. Lydia told me about it last time we talked. Apparently Laura hired on this super-hot dude who has zero social skills and a sneer that could rival Jackson’s.” Scott nodded absently to the suggestion.

“Isn’t that where Isaac works?” He asked. Stiles peered over at him, a sly grin curling his lips.

Scott really hated when Stiles smiled like that. It always meant something terrible – like Stiles getting an idea, or something equally as dangerous.

“I do believe it is.” Stiles said, wiggling his eyebrows. Scott groaned.

“Can you not? I was just asking!” He tried but Stiles was already laughing.

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say buddy. You’ve been nursing that crush since ninth grade. Maybe it’s time to do something about it?” Stiles asked, and the jeep seemed to steadily increase in speed. Apparently Stiles wanted to get there even sooner now.

“I don’t know, he’s always hanging out with Erica and Boyd, and they seem pretty tight-knit. Besides, I don’t even think he knows I exist.” Scott shrugged. Stiles rolled his eyes.

“Oh _god_ , cry me a river, dude! If you don’t think he knows you exist then _introduce_ yourself. It’s pretty basic stuff, y’know. Just a casual, _hey, how you doin’?_ ” Stiles nodded his head and wiggled his eyebrows some more. Scott laughed, shaking his head.

“Sure, and how did that work out with you and Lydia again?” Scott asked, and his friend clenched a hand dramatically over his heart.

“Low blow dude, low blow.” Stiles smacked Scott’s shoulder. “You never know until you try, right? It’s better to be in the game than sitting on the sidelines.”

“Then why are we still trying out for the lacrosse team? You know Coach is never gonna play us. You’re an uncoordinated mess; and you almost blew up his desk last year, and my asthma’s still pretty bad.” They’d been bench-warming since the ninth grade, maybe it was time to just throw in the towel and call it quits.

Stiles shook his head. “We’ll worry about that later. Right now we have more important issues to attend to.” They pulled into the parking lot of a small cluster of stores – one that had a sign which read, ‘ _The Hale Café_ ’. They’d been there a few times, mostly just to grab a coffee to go, but the café served lunch as well, so this would be the first time they were staying long enough to eat-in.

Scott didn’t dare hope for it, but if Isaac was there, maybe his morning might turn out to be just a little bit brighter.

΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅

Derek’s life was ridiculous. It was stupid and unfair and he didn’t know _how_ he’d managed to end up here, working at his sister’s coffee shop, wearing the preposterous uniform that was unrightfully _mandatory_ , according to Laura.

Derek had, at one time, had his entire life planned out. He would graduate from high school, get into a nice college, get his teacher’s degree, and land a job at a pristine school, one that had merits and civilized students who’d treat him with respect. It would’ve been perfect; his parents would’ve been proud of him, his uncle would stop pestering him about working at his studio, and he wouldn’t have had to accept the job at Laura’s shop.

He was ready to start his life, separate himself from his family just a little to get the freedom he’d had when he was in college. But there were student loans to pay back, bills that seemed to pile up, insurance that needed to be paid… This was his life now. Working from eight in the morning, all the way through lunch, and up until four. Sometimes even longer, if Laura needed him to.

It was hard serving all the hipster kids that showed up at the shop, knowing that he might be teaching them one day, if his Supply Teaching applications ever went through at the local high school. They wouldn’t take him seriously – not after seeing him in the deep, dark purple apron with ‘ _A Whole Latte Love’_ bolded across his chest. The shirt he had to wear underneath that was a white (couldn’t it just be black Laura? Goddamn it!) v-neck short sleeve, and he had to wear jeans – which were very constricting and hot as hell during the summer time when the heat hit.

He could suffer through all of that though, because none of that even came close to the mortification of wearing a plush coffee mug on the top of your head. There wasn’t even a _point_ to it; it literally served no purpose other than to further humiliate Derek and the rest of Laura’s employees.

He didn’t care how adorable his mother said he looked, he was one hundred and fifty nine percent sure he looked like a complete idiot. Girls, and some guys, still left their numbers for him, but he could never bring himself to see anyone who’d seen him in that stupid fucking hat.

Cora didn’t seem to mind it; in fact, she used it to her advantage. She _somehow_ managed to make it look cute, which ultimately, paired with her charming smile and outgoing personality, got her a good amount of tips. It was maddening trying to convince Laura to cut it out of the uniform, because both sisters would side against him and he had zero chance of competing against them when they united like that.

The other employees – two other guys, both still in high school; one was named Boyd, and he was pretty quiet but helpful, and the other’s name was Isaac, who also was fairly timid and usually only spoke to the customers if he spoke at all – they both didn’t really say anything on the subject. So it was Derek against Laura and Cora entirely alone.

Like he said, _zero chance_.

“You know if you didn’t look so sour all the time you could probably get just as many tips as your sister.” Laura said in passing as she fluttered from the stock rooms to her office with Iona, her snow leopard familiar, pacing with her. “And instead of renting that cheap apartment of yours, you could always move back in with mom and dad. I’m sure they’d be glad for the company, and that way you’d have to worry less about paying rent and more about paying off your loans.”

Lobo, Derek’s white wolf familiar, let out a low rumble of a growl. Iona’s hackles rose as she hissed, her claws extending and digging into the linoleum flooring. “Your cat’s destroying the floor.” Derek grumbled, clicking his tongue to get Lobo’s attention. Wordlessly he motioned for the wolf to go sit on the cushion in the corner of the store, away from his sister and the rest of the customers. Lobo padded away, curling up with his tail over his eyes.

“Look, I have to finish up inventory before I can leave tonight. I need you to cover for Isaac.” Laura said, and disappeared into the stock rooms again. Derek froze, frowning. He followed after her shortly, leaving Cora to handle the customers on her own. It wasn’t too busy; most people were out buying school supplies, getting ready for the first day of school in the morning. Cora could handle the few customers that were in line.

“What do you mean you need me to cover for Isaac? I’ve been here since _eight_ this morning! You’re honestly asking me to work a twelve hour shift?” He asked, his voice on the verge of being too loud that it was more or less a shout. Laura turned to him, but remained looking over the clipboard in her hand.

“That’s exactly what I’m asking you to do. Don’t worry little brother, I’ll pay you overtime.” Like that was any kind of compensation for the short notice of the extended hours he’d have to work through. He wasn’t exactly in any position to decline though, so he kept his further protests to himself and went back out front to help Cora with the customers.

Boyd was in the back, putting together the sandwiches that needed replenishing in the front display case, as well as baking a few of the goodies that the café sold during the lunch hour; things like chocolate chip muffins and cinnamon glazed donuts. Derek snuck a couple here and there, tossing a piece to Lobo when Laura wasn’t around to lecture him.

While Cora was on cashier duty, Derek made the drinks; mixing and heating, and getting them just the right way that the customers ordered them. In the beginning it had been difficult, but he’d gotten the hang of it around the second week of working there. Now when people ordered lattes, the drink orders sounding more like equations than anything else, Derek actually understood what the hell they were saying.

He was in the middle of making a Venti, sugar-free, non-fat, vanilla soy, double shot, decaf, no foam, extra hot, Peppermint White Chocolate Mocha with light whip and extra syrup (Jesus fucking Christ how do people even come up with this shit?), when Lobo’s head shot up from where it’d been resting on his paws and quirked towards the front door of the café.

Out of curiosity Derek followed his companion's gaze, and almost immediately saw what had roused the wolf. Two boys had entered the café, one whose familiar was a dog, and the other’s a fox. Derek hadn’t seen them around anywhere, and he’d have remembered, considering the fox’s human half had a unique face; one that flittered through emotions restlessly, shifting his features from childish and playful, through to sly and dangerous, and then to serious and strong-browed. And that was all basically in the matter of seconds.

The boy’s fox was jumping around, dodging through people’s feet and almost causing them to lose their balance in their attempts to avoid making any physical contact with the creature. The boy didn’t seem to notice; didn’t seem to care that his entrance was practically being broadcasted throughout the entire room.

Some people sneered at the boy, others ignored him altogether. Derek was vaguely intrigued.

“Yo, bro. You have that drink order ready or what?” Cora asked impatiently, and Derek realized he’d stopped halfway through making the mocha. He cursed under his breath and tugged the ridiculous hat off – though he wasn’t entirely sure why – and swiftly finished up making the drink, setting it on the counter and squinting at his sister’s writing on the side of the cup.

“Danny!” He called out, his voice gruff. From the corner of his eye he saw the boy with the fox familiar snap to attention, but Derek didn’t want to look too closely into that. Another young guy approached the counter, hesitantly reaching out to grab the cup.

“Thanks.” He said, smiling pleasantly. Derek tried to smile – honestly, he did – but he probably looked more like he was scowling. It didn’t seem to faze Danny, who continued to smile and make his way back over to the table where he’d come from, full of kids who looked to be going into their last year of high school.

Lobo jumped up from where he was lying down and darted around the counter and out into the front of the café. It took a moment for Derek to realize what had just happened, and then a sinking feeling weighed heavily in his gut. “Lobo!” He growled, throwing down the towel he’d been wiping his hands with and quickly stomping after the wolf.

Lobo seldom left Derek’s side; the two of them were nearly inseparable, as most familiars and their humans were, so Derek was panicking. He chased the wolf around the counter and stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes widening when he saw Lobo tentatively sniffing at the fox. The two familiars were almost snout to snout – almost touching.

Derek was pretty sure he wasn’t breathing. The boy that the fox belonged to was flailing, rushing over to wrap his hands around his familiar and pulled him up to his chest protectively, letting out a squeaky, “ _ohmygod,_ ” and backing away from the wolf. Lobo let out a whine, licking his chops and sitting down at the boy’s feet, peering up at him with a tilted head.

“ _Lobo_.” Derek ground out, and the wolf looked over his shoulder at him with a curiously pleading look. “Get over here right now.” Derek ordered. The wolf looked back up at the boy for a small moment more before unenthusiastically getting to his feet and padding back over to Derek. Derek kneeled down, grabbing the wolf’s head in his hands and looking into his light green eyes.

He wordlessly asked his wolf what he’d been doing, but Lobo stared blankly back at him. If wolves could shrug that’s probably what he’d have done as a reply.

There was someone approaching him, so he looked up, not entirely pleased with who he saw cautiously gazing down at him. “Uhh… hi?” The boy greeted unsurely, like he wasn’t entirely positive Derek wasn’t about to set his wolf on him.

Derek stood, brushing his legs off to rid his apron of Lobo’s fur. “Sorry about that, he’s usually not like this.” Derek still didn’t know what had caused the outburst, but he’d figure it out later. He had to focus on trying to ignore the fact that the entire store was staring at their exchange, including his younger sister.

The boy was staring up at Derek too; his big brown eyes curious and inviting. “No worries dude, just startled me.” The boy answered, setting the fox down beside him and casting a weary glance at Lobo. He apparently decided that the wolf wasn’t a threat, because he extended his hand for Derek to shake. “I guess this counts as, like, a meeting… right? So, I guess, I’m Stiles.”

Derek frowned, staring at Stiles’s hand like he wasn’t sure what to do with it. Obviously he was supposed to shake it, but he hadn’t exactly planned on being introduced this way, so openly and in front of everyone else in the café who were all _still staring_.

“Derek. Hale. I’m… Derek Hale…” He trailed off awkwardly, finally grasping Stiles’s wavering hand and shaking it firmly. The slight contact sent a spark through his skin, and Lobo rumbled beside him. Stiles heard and instantly jumped back, tearing his hand away from Derek’s.

“Please promise me your wolf isn’t going to eat me.” Stiles said, and his fox bounced around at Stiles’s feet, making these abrupt little chirping sounds.

Derek didn’t say anything to answer. He turned and headed back behind the counter, this time with Lobo following closely beside him. He helped Cora with the next few drink orders, refusing to look up from what he was doing to see where in line Stiles was.

Finally Cora handed him a cup, the name ‘ _Stiles_ ’ written clearly and bolded across it. “Iced Vanilla Breve Latte, extra whipped cream.” Simple enough. Derek had been anticipating something a lot more extravagant than that, but he appreciated simplicity. It was easier to make anyways.

He whipped it together in no time, along with the drink that Stiles’s friend had ordered. When he placed them on the counter he called out Stiles’s name instead of his friend’s, which was Scott, going by the name on the other cup. Stiles approached, his wide amber eyes searching Derek’s face for something.

Scott joined him at the counter, looking a little anxious about something. “Hey, do you know if Isaac is working today?” He asked, a hopefulness in his tone that had Derek quirking an eyebrow.

“He was supposed to be, but he never came in. You a friend of his?” Derek asked, and Scott hesitated.

“Uhh… yes?” He answered, though it sounded more like a question. Derek let out a huff and began wiping down the counter with a cloth.

“Good, maybe you can tell him he owes me for covering his ass today.” He said and Scott frowned.

“Sure, yeah. I’ll definitely tell him for you, yeah.” And then Scott was ambling away, leaving Stiles at the counter alone with Derek. There hadn’t been anyone in line behind them, so Cora hadn’t given Derek any more orders. She stood at the register, casually glancing over at them when she thought he wouldn’t notice.

Stiles rested his elbow against the counter, leaning into Derek’s personal space. “Hey, has your wolf ever done that before?” He asked, and Derek felt a little suspicious at how innocent Stiles sounded.

“No. Lobo hasn’t.” He paused, eying the fox that was running rampant under the tables, leaping over people’s feet and generally causing a disturbance. “Does your fox usually cause chaos where ever you go?” Stiles glanced over his shoulder just in time to catch the fox jumping up into an empty chair and immediately using it as a spring board to jump into the air and land on the table Scott was sitting at.

“Yeah, that’s sort of my fault. I should probably be taking my Adderall more regularly, but sometimes that just winds him up more, so…” He trailed off, looking back at Derek. There was a short silence, and then Stiles reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone. “What’s your number?” He asked casually, like it was more than okay to ask random strangers for their personal numbers.

Derek could feel his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “Why would I give you my number?” He asked, seriously doubting Stiles could come up with a good enough answer.

The guy just shrugged, already typing something into his phone. “Because. Usually people leave you their numbers, right? Well I wanna get to know you better, so I’m asking you for your number instead of leaving mine and possibly never hearing from you.”

Derek found himself smirking, even though he hadn’t given himself permission to. “You could always just come back and pester me that way.” Not that Derek wanted Stiles to make an appearance at the café again, because he seemed to be a walking disaster, and his fox had already driven away half the customers that had been sitting in the dining area.

“True, but with technology I can do that even when I’m not here.” Stiles grinned, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Derek chuckled a little, and Cora looked over with a comically surprised and confused expression on her face.

He thought about it – the guy looked to be in his late teens; probably around eighteen or nineteen, so it wasn’t like he’d be breaking any laws. And besides that, they’d just be texting, nothing serious. If anything it’d be a small source of amusement to distract Derek from his miserably boring and stagnant life.

With a sigh he grabbed the phone out of Stiles’s hand and typed in his number before tossing it back at the guy. “I better not get any late night booty calls.” Derek said over his shoulder as he walked away into the back rooms. “I’m taking my break.” He called over to Cora, who was watching the exchange with profound interest.

“You took your break two hours ago!” She tried to protest but Derek shot her a withering look.

“Yeah, I did, and now I’m working a double shift, which means I get another break. You have a problem with that take it up with Laura.” And that was the end of that, because Cora wasn’t about to interrupt Laura during inventory.

Derek made his way into the back room, sliding into the small chair and scrubbing at his face with his hands, trying to ground himself. He still felt a little rocked by Lobo’s behaviour, and by the fact that he’d actually given a complete stranger his phone number. It was too late to take it back now though, so he’d just have to live with it.

Lobo poked his head into the room, an innocent look on his face as he entered and rested his chin on Derek’s knee. He peered up at Derek with his best puppy dog eyes. “I’m still angry at you.” Derek murmured, but rubbed at Lobo’s ear anyways. Lobo licked at Derek’s hand and rested a paw on Derek’s knee.

Derek felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, and he hesitated retrieving it. When he looked at the screen he saw an unknown number staring back at him.

**What if it’s a mid-day booty call?**

Derek sucked in a deep breath, shaking his head. He glared down at Lobo. “This is all your fault.” He stated, rubbing at the back of his neck. He saved the number into his phone, under the name _Stiles_.

**_Derek:_ **

**No booty calls. And no drunk dials either.**

**_Stiles:_ **

**Well that’s no fun. Next you’re going to tell me I’m not allowed to send you pictures of naked butts.**

**_Derek:_ **

**Definitely no sending me naked butts.**

**_Stiles:_ **

**Killjoy.**

What on earth had he gotten himself into?

΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅

Isaac couldn’t breathe. He tried – tried to get his lungs to work, for his throat not to constrict – but it was futile. Every choked gasp just led to more pain, more suffering. The freezer always kept getting smaller; when he was younger it hadn’t been so cramped, but then, both he and his familiar, a golden retriever he’d named Scout, had both been smaller back then.

Now he was almost 6”1, his legs required to bend at extremely uncomfortable angles to fit into the small icebox. He kept telling himself that once he graduated from high school he could leave, get away from his father and away from the abuse.

At least his father had avoided hitting his head – that way there wouldn’t be any visible bruises Isaac had to stutter out any excuses for, and he wouldn’t have to deal with any sort of concussion or haziness. Just the pain. And he’d had a lot of practice with dealing with that.

Scout, thankfully, hadn’t been targeted. The retriever had tried to help when they were younger, had bit his father in an attempt to defend Isaac, but his father’s familiar – a mean grizzly bear with gnarled teeth and sharp claws named Bruce – had put an end to that with a quick swipe of his paw.

Since then Isaac tried to keep Scout from trying to save him. It was hard for the familiar to see its human enduring so much pain, but there was no way around it. Isaac just had to go through it, just as his brother had done before him, and their mother before that. It was his life now.

He was supposed to be at Laura’s an hour ago, but his father had woken up earlier than usual, still angry and hung over from the night before. It didn’t take much to trigger his father – all Isaac had done this time was accidentally set the plates down a little too carelessly into the sink; making a sharp clattering noise that aggravated his father’s headache – and that was it.

His father’s fist connected with his side, knocking the breath out of him and sending him staggering backwards into the wall. Isaac threw his arms over his face, just in case, and apologized over and over again. But it didn’t matter how sorry he was, he was going to be even sorrier once his father got his hands on him.

The rest of the way leading to the basement was a blur of punches and hazy words. He didn’t need to pay too close attention to the poison spewing from his father’s mouth, he’d heard it all before, it played in his head constantly like a broken record that never stopped.

_You’re not good enough. You’re not smart or quick. You’re useless and worthless. You’re lazy. You’ll never be anything more than a leech on society. You think you’re good enough to get into college? Think again son, because you’re going to be stuck working at that shitty coffee shop for the rest of your pathetic life. No one cares about you, so you can stop crying, it’s pitiful. Wipe up that blood before it stains, that’s all you’re good for._

It was all poison, and Isaac knew that, but he still took it. As hard as he fought against the words they seemed to become a part of him; constantly on the back of his mind. Maybe it was because he knew deep down that his father was right – he wasn’t good enough. He’d never be good enough for his father. He’d never be his mother, and he could never replace his brother.

They were both gone now; and Isaac was alone. Utterly and undeniably alone.

Scout licked gingerly at Isaac’s cheek, whining low in his throat. “I’m sorry.” Isaac choked out, grabbing onto Scout’s face and pressing it against his own, soaking the dog’s fur with his tears. “I’m so, so sorry.” Scout didn’t deserve this. He was innocent. He hadn’t dropped the plates, Isaac did. Scout wasn’t the one who forgot to take the garbage out last week, Isaac was. Scout was being punished for something Isaac had done, and it wasn’t fair.

And Isaac couldn’t do anything about it, and that hurt more than anything else.

He tried to reposition himself, give Scout a bit more room, but all it did was contort him more. He only had to hold out for another hour or so before his father left for work, then he’d be able to free them from this prison.

It didn’t pass quickly, but when he finally heard the front door open and slam shut, he lifted the freezer lid and peered out. He waited a few more minutes to make absolute sure that his father was gone before pushing the lid up and motioning for Scout to hop out.

He stood stiffly, stretching out his back and was rewarded with sharp pain spiking through his spine. His chest felt tight and his skin felt bruised. Scout peered up at him, his ears pulled back as a low whine emitted from him. He licked at Isaac’s hand, trying to be comforting.

They made their way up the stairs slowly, Isaac clutching at his side all the way. Each step brought fresh pain, each stumble a raw burn – by the time they’d made it up to his bedroom and collapsed into his bed he was ready to pass out.

He fought against the urge to let unconsciousness slip over him like a blanket, and instead peeled off his shirt and felt at his ribs. His brother had taught him what to look for, what bones might feel like if they were broken. He was okay though, his ribs felt intact. He would heal, and that’s all that really mattered.

He reached for his phone and checked it to see he had a few messages from Laura, all of them asking him where he was and if he’d forgotten about his shift at the café. He sent her a quick text back apologizing, but he couldn’t go in today, not when he looked and felt like absolute shit. She’d be disappointed, but that always happened. Isaac was a disappointment.

There was a text from Erica, asking if he wanted her to pick him up in the morning on the way to school, which he replied in the affirmative to. He was looking forward to being out of the house five days a week, even if it meant having stressful amounts of homework on top of everything else. School meant less time at his house, which meant less time around his father; and that was just better for everyone.

He fell back onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling.

This was going to be his last year. He’d turn eighteen next fall and then he’d be free to do whatever he wanted. He could get away from his dad. He could get away from this town. He could start a new life. And sometimes he really wanted to. Sometimes he would catch himself thinking about all the places he could see, and the people he could meet. The foods he could taste and the stories he could hear.

But then; sometimes he remembered his father’s words, and all his dreams about leaving fell through his fingers like sand falling in an hour glass – each grain a little loss of momentum. Soon he wouldn’t have any left. Soon he’d turn into exactly what his father saw him as.

And that would be the end of that.


	2. Chapter 2

“Who are you even texting right now?” Scott asked quietly, leaning in his chair to try and steal a glance at Stiles’s phone over his shoulder. Stiles flailed in his attempts to keep his friend from seeing the name _Derek_ in bold lettering on his screen.

“No one. It’s nothing. He’s just a friend.” Stiles fumbled and his phone slipped through his fingers, landing on his desk with a loud _clunk_.

Stiles scrambled for the phone, snatching it away from plain sight and depositing it in his lap just in time before Mr. Harris turned around to face the noise, his eyes automatically landing on Stiles. Todd made an irritated sound from where he rested at Stiles’s feet.

“Is that a phone Mr. Stilinski?” He asked and waited impatiently for Stiles to answer the question they already both knew the response to. Yes, that was Stiles’s phone. Yes, this was the last year Harris would have to deal with Stiles, and Stiles wasn’t about to make it any easier than the previous years had been. Yes, Stiles was probably going to end up stuck in the detention room more than he actually attended classes.

They’d been through all of this before. “No sir. Wouldn’t dream of bringing a cellular device to class sir.” Stiles answered. Both Harris and his familiar – an exceptionally ugly elephant seal that took up the majority of the front of the room – gave Stiles a disapproving glare. Harris clearly wasn’t in the mood for Stiles’s antics, but instead of lecturing him and in turn the rest of the class, on the strict prohibition of the use of phones during class, he turned back to the blackboard and continued to write out the semester’s lesson plan.

Stiles glanced at his phone.

**_Derek:_ **

**You can’t seriously believe pancakes are better than waffles.**

He peered up at Harris to make sure the older man’s back was still turned before he cautiously tapped out a response.

**_Stiles:_ **

**I do believe it because they are and there’s nothing you can ever say to convince me otherwise.**

Stiles was smirking. He smiled every time his phone vibrated. Todd chirped and nipped at Stiles’s ankle. It wasn’t exactly discreet but Stiles didn’t really care. Texting Derek was fun. Keeping a conversation ongoing felt _easy_ , even if the topic was pancakes versus waffles. How it had all started in the first place was Derek sending Stiles a good morning text, which Stiles had not been expecting.

Their dialogue had been pretty lighthearted and flirty since Stiles had scored Derek’s number the day before. Stiles wasn’t really sure what he’d expected, but it hadn’t been banter and teasing and sarcasm. Well, maybe he’d seen the sarcasm coming, but it was attached to Derek’s killer wit, which was something Stiles could appreciate.

**_Derek:_ **

**No words would be necessary. One taste of my homemade waffles and you’d realize your ignorance.**

Stiles scoffed and Harris threw a look at him over his shoulder. He waited a few minutes before replying.

**_Stiles:_ **

**I’d like to see these life-altering homemade waffles of yours.**

They’d already joked about booty calls and exchanging butt pics, Stiles was hoping he wasn’t stepping out of line. He knew there was some suggestion behind the assumption that Derek would ever have breakfast with him (waffles were definitely a breakfast food), but again, it was mostly all lighthearted fun so far.

Stiles had to wait a total of ten minutes and forty seven seconds for Derek’s reply to come through. Harris had moved onto facing the class once more, droning on about Chemistry and how what they’d learn in class could be applied to everyday occasions. He skimmed over the bomb-making bit (by far the most interesting subject as well as the most dangerous when you had Stiles Stilinski, aspiring pyromaniac, in your class) and had begun listing off careers and post-secondary programs that required Chem as a prerequisite.

Stiles felt his phone vibrate but couldn’t do anything about it until the end of class. The bell rang and instantly he was out of his seat and filing out of the room, phone in hand and message displayed.

**_Derek:_ **

**I’ll have to make a batch for you sometime.**

Stiles bit at his lower lip, trying to figure out if that was confirmation that Derek saw whatever this was between them going somewhere, or if he was just saying it to appease Stiles and keep the conversation going.

He didn’t have too much time to worry about it because another text came through.

**_Derek:_ **

**Hey, things just got pretty busy here at the shop, I’ll text you on my break?**

Stiles leaned against the nearest locker, focusing on answering rather than avoiding walking into the countless students now crowding the hallway on their way to their next class.

**_Stiles:_ **

**Cool sounds good. Try not to kill any of the customers!**

**_Derek:_ **

**As long as you don’t come in I don’t think I’ll have a problem.**

**_Stiles:_ **

**Ha ha ha. You’re hilarious. Don’t lie Hale, you’re growing fond of me. It’s only been a day but you already have no idea what you’d do without me in your life.**

**_Derek:_ **

**I’d probably be able to focus on work instead of burning myself on the steam.**

**_Stiles:_ **

**You didn’t.**

**_Derek:_ **

**I did. And it’s all your fault.**

**_Stiles:_ **

**Learn how to take responsibility Derek.**

**_Derek:_ **

**I’m going back to work now.**

**_Stiles:_ **

**Alright. Try not to burn yourself when you think about me.**

Stiles smirked and slipped the phone into his pocket. When he looked up he found he’d somehow managed to end up sitting at a new desk in his next class’s room. English with Mrs. Menhennet – he’d once heard that she made her entire class stay in for an hour long detention after school, and any who skipped would have a zero on their summative assignment and failed the class.

First semester was apparently going to be hell.

΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅

“Who are you even texting right now?” Scott asked, completely frustrated with his friend. Stiles didn’t even look up from his phone. Copper sniffed at Todd’s tail, but the fox seemed just as preoccupied as Stiles did.

“No one. It’s nothing. He’s just a friend.” Scott wanted to ask _who was just a friend?_ But Harris was looking over his shoulder, glaring at Stiles who was just hiding his phone in his lap. Stiles was going to get into trouble as usual, but Scott wasn’t worried about that.

He was more or less worried about the knee that kept knocking into his under the science desk. He glanced over at Isaac as carefully as he could, and caught the other boy giving him and Stiles a curious look.

Scott smiled at Isaac and Isaac smiled back, but it seemed a little strained. Scott returned his attention back to Harris and Stiles, trying to hide the fact that his cheeks were burning red. Copper let out a low grumble, nosing at Scott’s knee.

When Harris had assigned seats he’d paired Scott with Isaac and Stiles with some random, and that meant that for the _entire_ semester he’d have _Isaac_ as a partner. Which meant he couldn’t just hide behind his text book and hope the other boy would go out of his way to spark up a conversation. Scott actually had to say something.

At first when Harris said he would be assigning seating and partners, Scott had felt his heart drop into his stomach, knowing the possibility that he’d end up with Isaac. He’d also figured he’d end up on the opposite side of the room from Stiles, not sitting at the table directly behind him. Scott wasn’t sure why Harris had decided it would be a good idea to seat them together, but he wasn’t going to question it.

After Harris had gotten through trying to deal with Stiles (honestly it never ended well – except this time around Harris looked to be exhausted with Stiles already, and it was only the first day of school) the teacher then went on to writing down the curriculum on the big black board at the front of the room.

Scott reached into his bag and pulled out his notebook and pen, opening it up to the first page and scrawling the date at the top right of the sheet before continuing to copy the rest of the note. He heard a small intake of breath and looked over to see Isaac wincing as he leaned down to grab something out of his own bag. Copper’s head tilted, sniffing at the other boy and his familiar curiously.

Scott frowned. Isaac looked like he was in pain, and he was struggling with trying to pull his book out of his bag, and his familiar was licking at his hand in an almost comforting sort of way. Taking a deep breath Scott leaned over and rested his hand lightly on Isaac’s back to get his attention. The other boy froze, his entire body tensing at the touch. Scott’s hand quickly retreated, tingling and twitching.

“Sorry,” he breathed, almost too quiet to be heard, “didn’t mean to scare you.” He looked down at his notebook, face hot and heart pounding. The first time he’d ever tried to talk to Isaac and he completely fudged it up before he’d even spoken a word. Wonderful.

There was a long enough silence that he decided it was safe for him to look back up and resume writing down the note, but just as he was looking up he felt Isaac leaning into his space. For a split moment it felt like the air around them was igniting in sparks and flames. “You didn’t scare me. You startled me.” Isaac’s voice was low, almost as quiet as Scott’s had been. “You’re Scott, right?”

Scott felt a surge of delight at that; Isaac knew his name. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m Scott.” He said, and he was having trouble trying to wipe his goofy grin off his face. The other boy met his smile.

“I’m Isaac.” He held out his hand and Scott shakily took it in his own.

“I know,” he almost laughed, “we’ve sorta been taking classes together since ninth grade. And we’re on the same lacrosse team.” How had they not talked to each other before? It seemed ridiculous. Isaac’s cheeks suddenly tinted red.

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” He said, and his brow was furrowing. Scott realized he was still holding tightly onto Isaac’s hand. He pulled away and started writing in his notebook again. Harris was about to wipe off half the note; the part he hadn’t managed to copy down yet. He peered over and noticed Isaac still didn’t have his book out. “Do you want to borrow a piece of paper?” Scott asked.

Isaac smiled brightly and looked down at his bag. “Sure, thanks. I’m a bit sore today, trying to get back into shape before cross country.” Isaac’s familiar started wagging his tail, sitting up and looking at Scott with warm eyes. Isaac was the only other person in the town that Scott knew of having a dog as a familiar. Copper mirrored the golden retriever’s position, though his tail was wagging at a slower pace.

Scott ripped out a sheet of paper and slid it across the desk, smiling and nodding at Isaac. “Do you need something to write with too? I’ve got a spare pen in my bag somewhere,” before Isaac could even answer he searched through his bag until he found the extra pen shoved to the bottom of the bag. He pulled it out triumphantly and placed it on the table in front of Isaac.

“Thanks,” Isaac smiled and Scott found it difficult to look away from how bright Isaac’s face was, how his deep blue eyes seemed to communicate sincerity and warmth. Scott smiled back, more than happy to have that smile beaming in his direction.

“No problem, let me know if there’s anything else I can help you with.” As he went back to copying down the note he felt a little more at ease now that the ice between them had been broken. It wasn’t long before the bell sounded to signal that it was the end of the class. Scott stood from his seat, collecting his things before slinging his bag over his shoulder.

Isaac cleared his throat and Scott looked over to see the other boy holding out the pen. “Thanks for letting me borrow it.”

“No, no. Keep it. I’ve got plenty.” Scott smiled and Isaac looked hesitant.

“Are you sure?” He asked and Scott nodded. Copper barked happily, and the other boy’s familiar’s tail started wagging.

“Yeah no worries man.” Isaac could have all of Scott’s pens. Isaac could have anything of Scott’s actually, and he wouldn’t complain.

Isaac smiled again, slipping the pen into his pocket. “Thanks.” He paused and looked around the room. The rest of the students had already made their exit. “I guess I’ll see you later.” Isaac said and turned towards the door.

“Yeah, see ya.” Scott replied, watching Isaac and his familiar walk away. Before they left completely Isaac looked back and smiled, giving a small wave. Scott returned it and sighed as soon as Isaac disappeared into the chaos of the busy hallways.

Copper whined, peering up at Scott expectantly. He kneeled down and rubbed behind the dog’s ears. “I know, I know.” He stood up, shifting his bag on his shoulder. “Come on.” He clicked his tongue and his familiar followed him out of the room and towards his next class.

΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅

“What’s up with you today?” Laura asked, peering at her brother from behind the counter. Derek was out on the main floor mopping up a spill leftover from the lunch rush. The café was pretty dead now, only a few sitting down in the tables and chairs set up. They all had their phones or computers out, typing away and ignoring the rest of the world.

“There’s nothing up with me, Laura.” Derek answered gruffly. He could practically hear Laura rolling her eyes.

“You’ve burned yourself _twice_ , you’ve been _smiling_ at customers, and now you’re _mopping_. You never mop. You mope. So what happened? Did you get a job offer?” Laura was trying to sound annoyed, but Derek could tell she was curious, and maybe a little worried.

He hadn’t really been thinking about it – when he went to work he really just moved through the motions in a sort of mechanical way – but if he reflected on it he’d have to admit that he was feeling lighter somehow.

“No, nothing happened. I didn’t really get much sleep last night,” it was an excuse; Derek had actually gotten to sleep pretty easily. He stayed up a bit later, only until around midnight, because he’d been texting Stiles, but he’d woken up feeling pretty refreshed.

Laura gave him a wary side glance. “Any reason?” She asked, and he’d been hoping to avoid that question. He shrugged, shaking his head.

“No, not really.” He answered, praying that she’d drop it already and go back to whatever it is she’d been doing. She watched him for a long moment; probably trying to figure out if it was worth trying to crack him. She sighed heavily and turned away.

“I’m giving you a day off. I’ll get Cora or Isaac to come in for your Thursday shift.” She said, and he was about to protest when she shot him a stern glare. “This isn’t open for debate, Derek. This is my store, which makes _me_ the boss, and I say you’re taking a day off.” A part of him grew frustrated by his sister’s complete disregard for his opinion, but at the same time he wasn’t about to decline the opportunity to have a day off. He decided he wouldn’t argue this time, and Laura would have her way.

He’d take the day off to write or read, or do something productive like finally finish painting his office.

The last hour of his shift went by surprisingly quickly; by the time three o’clock rolled around he’d already taken care of everything that needed to be cleaned or replaced. Isaac walked through the doors at two fifty five as was usual for him on weekdays when he was back in school. Derek greeted him with a smile and Isaac gave him a weird look.

“I’ve never seen you do that with your face before.” Isaac said and Derek scoffed. He reached over and placed his palm against Isaac’s forehead, giving the younger boy a playful push. Isaac laughed and ducked out of Derek’s way, accidentally knocking his hip into the counter. Instantly Isaac doubled over, whimpering. Scout rushed to his side and licked at Isaac’s face, a low whine sounding from the dog. “I’m okay, I’m okay.” He tried to reassure them, but Derek was still frowning.

Derek wasn’t an idiot; he’d heard the rumours. Rumours which unfortunately were more based in truth than fallacy. Isaac had come to work beaten and bruised before, and Derek had tried to ask about it once but got totally shut down for his efforts. It had taken almost a month before Isaac even started talking to Derek again. Clearly this was something the boy wanted to deal with alone and Derek wasn’t about to overstep the boundaries again.

“You sure?” He asked tentatively, giving Isaac a chance to change his mind. The younger boy stood up straight, squaring his shoulders and locking his jaw into place.

“Yeah, I’m good. Is Laura here?” He asked and walked towards the back room without waiting for Derek to answer. “Hey,” he smiled at Cora, who was just slipping an apron over her head. She returned the smile before walking over to Derek and nudging him in the arm to redirect his attention from his phone back to her.

“Laura said you’re in a weird mood today,” she was about to say more when Lobo abruptly barked and stared at Derek expectantly. A few moments before his phone had vibrated; signalling a new message. Derek frowned, but pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the screen. There was a text message from Stiles waiting to be read.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” He paused, realizing his sister hadn’t actually asked him a question. “I mean, what?” He looked up from his phone and tried to give Cora his undivided attention, but a large paw landed on his hand. Lobo grumbled.

Cora sighed and rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I’ll see you later.” She waved him off and joined Isaac at the register. Derek let out a small sigh too before patting Lobo’s shoulder and nodding towards the front door.

“Let’s go boy.” He mumbled and made his exit. He opened the passenger side door of his van and let Lobo hop in before closing it again. When he hopped into the driver’s side he took out his phone again and checked the message.

**_Stiles:_ **

**How was work?**

Derek smiled and then caught himself and frowned. He shook himself off a bit, reminded himself that he was a grown man and he was texting a guy he’d only met a day ago. There was no need to get excited at the idea that Stiles checked in on him.

**_Derek:_ **

**Fine.**

He was going to leave it just like that, no room for expanding the conversation. When he was on the road heading towards his apartment his phone buzzed again. He pulled up to a red light and eyed the phone warily. Lobo watched him expectantly.

With a sigh he grabbed the phone and checked Stiles’s reply.

**_Stiles:_ **

**That good huh? School was pretty much the same for me, though I’d use a more colourful ‘f’ word to describe my classes.**

Derek had to read that message twice. He was so stuck on it that he didn’t even realize the light had changed from red to green. The car behind him honked their horn and he snapped back to attention. He started driving again, mostly focusing on the road.

If Stiles was in school… that either meant he was still a teenager or he was in college. Derek could flirt with a college student – they were at least _legal_. High school student not so much; especially if he wanted to eventually teach high school. Not that he was confident he’d be scoring a teaching gig any time soon, but still.

When he reached the apartment building’s parking lot he sat there for a long moment contemplating the situation. He could drop Stiles’s number, never speak to the guy again. Sure they might see each other at Laura’s coffee shop, but Derek knew how to shut people down. If Stiles persisted then he’d do just that – shake the guy off until he got the hint. It would be easy enough.

So why was he having such a hard time actually following through with it?

He sighed and started typing out his reply.

**_Derek:_ **

**Which school do you go to?**

He waited impatiently, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. Lobo whined and pawed at the door, obviously confused about why they were still sitting in the stuffy van instead outside and on their way up to the cozy apartment full of chew toys and plush pillows.

His phone barely began vibrating before he grabbed it again and read through the message.

**_Stiles:_ **

**BHC – I’m enrolled in the pyrotechnics program.**

Derek let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. _Beacon Hills College_.

**_Derek:_ **

**Sweet. You’re a pyro?**

**_Stiles:_ **

**Absolutely. Ever since pre-K when I set my eyebrows on fire.**

**_Stiles:_ **

**I literally had to walk around with no eyebrows for a month.**

**_Stiles:_ **

**I was adorable.**

Derek smiled to himself. _Yeah, you still are._ That’s what he wanted to say but Lobo had just about enough of this being locked in an enclosed space business and was aggressively staring at Derek; which was what the wolf always did before he started howling at the top of his lungs until Derek gave him the attention he desired. Derek wasn’t in the mood for a migraine, so he put his phone away and hopped out, Lobo following out the driver’s side door instead of waiting for Derek to open the passenger door.

They headed up to the apartment, bumping into Mrs. Sweeney on the way who offered Derek some homemade brownies but he politely declined (the last time he ate one of her brownies he’d gotten pretty damn buzzed – once he’d sobered up he realized just how _special_ those brownies were). Once he entered the apartment he locked the door behind him and headed straight for the shower.

Afterwards he wrapped a towel around his waist and grabbed his phone off the small, rickety table in the front hallway. He re-read Stiles’s last messages and sent one of his own.

**_Derek:_ **

**I bet you were. What happened?**

He reached into his fridge and pulled out some leftover sushi he’d been saving in a Tupperware container. As soon as he lifted the lid an intense smell of _rot_ rolled out of it and almost made him gag. Lobo tilted his head from where he was sitting next to his food bowl.

Derek sighed and tossed the expired hand rolls in the garbage, and crossed over to fill the wolf’s dish. Lobo ate eagerly as Derek continued his search for a decent meal. He’d just about given up all hope when his phone stared chiming, signalling an oncoming call.

His mother’s name flashed across the screen.

“Hey mom,” he answered, leaning up against the counter.

“Son.” She greeted him, pausing only for a moment before making the reason for her call known. “Have you eaten dinner yet? Your father and I wouldn’t mind your company tonight.” Derek frowned. His parents usually let him keep to himself; he’d made it clear he wouldn’t accept their interference. He was out on his own now – responsibilities, bills, his own place – he wanted to prove to them, and to himself, that he could handle it.

“Uh…” He trailed off. Talia clicked her tongue impatiently.

“You’re coming over. We have four t-bone steaks and Laura cancelled on us last second. You’d be doing us a favour.” She was quick to make Derek feel obligated, and to appeal to his _giving_ nature, making it sound like he’d be helping them out instead of the other way around.

He sighed and glanced at the clock. He still had time to make his own dinner. _But steak_.

“Alright, alright. I’ll be there soon.” Derek answered. His mother sounded absolutely delighted as she said her goodbye and hung up the phone. Derek quickly got dressed and headed back down to the parking lot with Lobo hot on his heels, his tail wagging aggressively and his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth.

Apparently the promise of _steak_ was equally as exciting for the wolf.


	3. Chapter 3

By Thursday morning Isaac was feeling a lot better – his bruises had changed from a deep, dark purple-yellow to a fading black and blue. When he applied pressure to his ribs it hurt less and less each day. He hadn't seen his father around the house since the incident so that helped brighten his mood.

He walked into his Chem class feeling fresh and recharged. When he sat down next to Scott – the quiet, sweet kid he'd noticed around the school more and more since their first day of class together back in ninth grade, but had been too shy to really say anything to – he smiled and said hello with a cheerfulness he regretted he hadn't started the week off with. Scott probably thought he was a weirdo. Not that it mattered. Isaac was pretty sure Scott was dating the even _weirder_ kid – Stiles, Isaac remembered idly – so maybe Scott didn't mind.

"It's the first week of school and Harris already has us doing two assignments. That's it man, proof that he's Satan." Isaac heard Stiles say from where he sat in front of them. Scott rolled his eyes.

"You're just pissed at him for taking your phone away yesterday." Scott said, and Isaac repressed a smile. He'd heard Scott say how much he disliked Harris, but here he was coming to his defence.

Stiles twisted in his seat to shoot Scott a nasty glare. The fox at his feet nipped at Scott's pants. Scott returned the glare, though his was much more amused than Stiles's.

“If he catches you on it again today he’s going to send you to the office, you know that, right?” Scott said, and as he finished there was a quiet vibrating noise in the direction of Stiles’s bag. The two boys exchanged a heavy stare; Scott looked like he was silently reprimanding Stiles, and Stiles was just about sticking his tongue out at him. “Don’t-,” but before he could finish his warning Stiles was rummaging through his bag and pulling out his phone.

“This’ll only take a second.” Stiles said and turned his back on Scott, ignoring his friend’s insistent pleading for him to put his phone away before Harris got there. A few moments later the bell rang to signal the beginning of class. In walked Harris along with his familiar, and Stiles fumbled with his phone, almost dropping it in his attempt to hide it under his binder.

Harris leered over at him and blatantly rolled his eyes. “Stilinski, rather than wasting more valuable class time lecturing you on how unacceptable phones are in my classroom, I’ll be expecting a one thousand word essay on my desk tomorrow morning, outlining the reasons why the use of any cellular or electronic device is prohibited during school hours.”

Stiles’s shoulders visibly slumped. “That’s not entirely accurate,” he started, and Isaac could see the pure hatred in Harris’s eyes, “calculators aren’t banned. Defibrillators aren’t banned, though I don’t recommend using one unless you know how to. They’re a lot trickier to manage than they look. Oh, I’m pretty sure computers, another electronic device, are allowed in school. Considering we have an entire lab dedicated to them.”

“Just shut up Stiles,” Scott muttered under his breath.

There was a long pause, filled only by the intense glare Harris pinned on Stiles. “Make that two thousand words. Hand-written.” Harris almost shouted, and the loud noise made Isaac wince. Scott tilted his head slightly, almost so discreetly Isaac didn’t catch it. He turned to meet the other boy’s fleeting glance.

Scott, realizing he’d been caught, turned to look at Isaac again. “Are you okay?” He asked almost silently, and there was real worry behind his eyes. Isaac smiled – though he was pretty sure it was a poor excuse for it – and he shrugged.

“I have an ear ache.” He lied. Scott gave him a sympathetic smile and turned back to face the front of the class.

After Harris and Stiles finally got through with deciding on just how many words the essay would be – five thousand, thanks to Stiles’s smartass retorts – Harris began the class by assigning them all with a group project.

Isaac was just about to ask Scott if he wanted to group up with Erica, Boyd, and him, but Stiles turned in his seat and wiggled his eyebrows at Scott, which Isaac took to mean they were planning on partnering up. He internally shrugged, reminding himself that he’d have the rest of the semester to get to know the boy beside him – the one with worried eyes and a ready smile that somehow put Isaac at ease.

“Nice try Stilinski. You and Mr. McCall will be in separate groups. In fact,” Mr. Harris paused and turned his eyes towards the back of the classroom, “Ms. Martin, I expect you’ll make an excellent partner for Stilinski.” Isaac glanced over his shoulder to see the red head’s eyes harden.

Isaac could see the internal struggle there; not wanting to get on Harris’s blacklist but not wanting Stiles in her group. She made the decision quickly though.

“Of course,” she said, though it sounded strained. Lydia’s familiar – a beautiful white barn owl, whose features were sharp and graceful – tilted its head at Stiles, as if it was inspecting him carefully. It was perched on top of the nearby classroom roost. There were a few other familiars occupying the large structure, which had been built to accommodate the students with birds as familiars, but Lydia’s owl was by far the most majestic.

Stiles’s cheeks visibly reddened, and Isaac heard Scott trying to stifle a laugh.

As Stiles stood from his seat, his head hanging at a submissive angle, his fox followed at his heels – and even the usually unruly familiar seemed subdued. Isaac leaned over towards Scott, deciding he’d take his chance. “You can be with Erica, Boyd, and I, if you want. We need a fourth.” Isaac smiled, hoping Scott would say yes.

Which he did, and for some odd reason that made Isaac’s heart pound a little harder than usual.

The two of them joined the others when Mr. Harris announced they had the rest of the class to separate themselves into their groups and discuss the project. Erica and Boyd were already in the corner; Erica leaning against the window sill with her gaze trained on Scott, and Boyd was reaching down to pat Kunu, his cuddly and adorable panda bear familiar. As Isaac and Scott approached, Harley, the cheetah familiar connected to Erica, made a low churring sound.

Kunu craned his neck to look at the other familiar, making low honking sounds and just about rolling over onto his back. They weren’t used to being approached by newcomers.

“Hey guys, this is Scott.” Isaac announced and Erica raised an eyebrow. She already knew who he was, considering how often Isaac mentioned the other boy’s name in the past three days.

“And this is Copper!” Scott added quickly just as the hound at his side gave a happy bark. Mr. Harris glowered at them and Scott said his apologies, lowering his head in embarrassment and quietly reprimanding Copper. Isaac thought it was cute the way Scott’s cheeks visibly reddened.

Boyd nodded his greeting before going back to looking over the project outline sheet. Erica pushed off from the wall and held her hand out, a devious curl in her lips. “I’m Erica, this is Harley, that’s Boyd, that’s Kunu, and you’re not seeing anyone, are you?” She asked and Isaac just about swallowed his own tongue.

It didn’t matter if he mentioned he thought Scott was cute, or sweet, or funny; Erica needed to stop. Right now.

Scott choked on a laugh that sounded more like a wheezy cough. “Uh, no? I mean… No. That’s… yeah, no.” He answered, embarrassed again.

Erica let go of Scott’s hand finally, after shaking it for too long. “So you’re not dating Stiles?” She asked curiously, and again Scott had to catch his breath before answering.

“Definitely not. He’s like my brother, I’ve known him since birth.” He paused, his brow furrowed and his lips pressed into an unsure smile. “Why am I telling you this?”

Erica’s smile turned innocent. Boyd rolled his eyes. “She’s been in love with Stilinski ever since kindergarten.” Which wasn’t strictly true considering Erica was _actually_ in love with Boyd, except she didn’t have the courage to say it to his face. Only to Isaac’s. And only when she was drunk.

Still, Isaac was thankful for the interference.

“Ah,” Scott said in understanding, and then suddenly he looked a little apologetic. “Sorry to break it to you, but Stiles isn’t exactly… uh… into girls, at the moment. Lydia being the exception, I think.” Erica took the moment to look disappointed but she quickly regrouped and saw opportunity for another intrusion.

She took a step to close the distance between the two of them and rested her hand on Scott’s shoulder. “How about you handsome?” She purred and Isaac felt extremely uncomfortable.

Scott stuttered for a moment before shrugging. “I guess?” He didn’t sound too sure. Erica titled her head and glanced over in Isaac’s direction before taking a sizeable step back. Scott looked over at Isaac too, a pleading look behind his gaze.

“Sorry about her.” Isaac said, and he meant it. Erica just smirked.

“I have a strong personality, what can I say?” She winked at him and Scott smiled meekly in response. The rest of the class was spent looking over the project outline, and by the time end of class rolled around Erica had already decided they were all going over to her house later to get an early start on the project.

Or, really, they were all going to hang out watching television and playing video games and get absolutely nothing accomplished for the project. But Isaac was cool with that scenario.

“I don’t know, I promised Stiles I’d hang with him until his dad got home.” Scott said and suddenly Stiles was beside him.

Stiles was staring at his phone, and he didn’t even bother to look up when he said, “You’re off the hook bro, I’ve got plans.” And then the bell rang and Stiles was bolting towards the door, ignoring Scott’s demands for an explanation.

Erica swung an arm over Scott’s shoulder, giving him a friendly smile. “I guess that’s settled then. You can pick Isaac up from his place and the two of you can make your way over to my house at around five-ish? We’ll order pizza or something for dinner.”

“Alright.” Scott smiled, though he looked a little unsure. Isaac smiled too, because even though he knew exactly what Erica was up to, he was glad he’d be able to spend some time outside of class with a guy as nice as Scott.

΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅

**_Derek:_ **

**I’m bored. Entertain me.**

“I swear to God Stilinski if you don’t put your phone away I’m going to shove it so far up your ass-,” Jackson started but Lydia shot him a dark look to shut him up. Danny was laughing from where he sat nearby, perched on top of the desk. Usually Harris didn’t allow that sort of thing, but it was Danny – everyone loved Danny. He could commit an act of high treason, or mass murder, and people would still love Danny.

Lydia slowly turned to Stiles, forcing a smile onto her face. “Put your phone away.” She ordered, her tone leaving no room for argument. And it wasn’t like Stiles was even going to try to disobey, because this was Lydia. Lydia the ever devastatingly beautiful and intriguing woman who’d been the main object of Stiles’s interest since the very first day he’d seen her.

So he put his phone away and listened quietly as the rest of his group brainstormed ideas about the project. He managed to last five minutes without looking at his phone, but as soon as Lydia excused herself to go to the washroom it was back out and he was typing his response to Derek as quickly and discreetly as was possible for someone like him.

**_Stiles:_ **

**Is that all I am to you Derek? Cheap entertainment?**

**_Stiles:_ **

**Wait a second, why are you bored? Aren’t you at work?**

Just as he hit the send button his phone was plucked from his hands and Lydia was sliding it into her cleavage where it disappeared, perhaps never to be seen again. She gave Stiles a seriously pissed off glare.

“You’ll get it back when you come up with a solid project idea.” She explained, and her owl – Stiles knew was named Willow – stared at him expectantly. He looked down at Todd, who was apparently bored enough that he was lying at Stiles’s feet taking a nap.

“We could expand on Louis Pateur’s findings, explain how geomagnetism plays an important role in the growth and health of plants.” Stiles suggested. Lydia thought about it for a moment, while her boyfriend gave Stiles one of the blankest stares he’d ever seen in his entire life. It was a good look on Jackson; really summed up his personality.

Lydia smacked her lips together. “Nope. Too boring. Next.”

“Fine. Let’s go more bio on this chemistry then. We’ll determine whether or not DNA influences what familiars we end up with.” Stiles had always been curious about that; whether or not the bond he shared with Todd was simply genetic or something more profound.

Danny raised an eyebrow. “You realize this is high school, right?”

Stiles pursed his lips. “Okay, okay.” He paused, thinking for a moment. “How about we burn things?” Todd’s head perked up. Lydia was quiet for a moment, and Jackson was rolling his eyes.

“Why the fuck did Harris have to put the pyro in our group?” He asked. The Komodo dragon sitting just behind Jackson – which had recently looked very much dead – suddenly turned its head to look at Stiles. It hissed, flicking its tongue out. Todd’s hackles rose as he backed up into Stiles’s legs, as far away from the reptile as possible.

“Actually, I think we can work with that.” Lydia said, leaning over her desk as she narrowed her eyes at Stiles.

Harris walked over, his arms crossed tightly over his chest as he scrutinized the four of them. “Have you managed to come up with a project idea?” He asked, though it was obvious he thought it highly unlikely that the group of them had done anything productive in the last half hour.

“With your permission we’d like to test various flame retardants on woods to see which substance has a greater resistance to fire.” Lydia replied easily. Harris immediately turned his glare on Stiles.

“I don’t suppose, Mr. Stilinski, that you suggested this? Because, as I recall, you’d prefer to let things burn, rather than see what might put the flames out.” Stiles had to hold himself back from rolling his eyes. You blow up one measly mailbox and suddenly you’re a goddamn terrorist.

“Actually-,” he started, but Lydia interrupted him.

“We’d have parental supervision during our experiments; I’m sure Danny’s dad wouldn’t mind taking a night off to supervise.” She said and Danny nodded. Danny’s dad was a well-known fireman in the town. Stiles still remembered when they were younger and toured the fire department for a class field trip. Danny’s dad had lectured them all about how dangerous matches and lighters were – not that Stiles had really listened to any of that – but it was still pretty cool.

Harris took a minute to think it over, obviously trying to determine whether or not giving Stiles permission to light things on fire was the best decision. Finally he sighed. “Alright Ms. Martin, you have my consent.” And then he walked away.

Stiles smiled at Lydia, holding out his hand and wiggling his fingers. She rolled her eyes and reached into her shirt to pull out his phone and smack it into his hand.

**_Derek:_ **

**Laura gave me the day off. I’ve been sitting around on the couch all day watching Friends re-runs. I’m going crazy.**

Stiles knew how he wanted to respond. He just didn’t know if Derek would be game for what he had in mind. Still, all it took was twenty seconds of courage, right? At least, that’s what his mother always said. So he went for it.

**_Stiles:_ **

**Your couch big enough for two?**

He waited impatiently for Derek to say something. Anything. Even if he said no Stiles would understand. He’d have a better idea about what exactly was going on between the two of them. He could live with pining after Lydia for years and years without ever being acknowledged by her, but if he added Derek to that list he’d be a mess.

“You seem agitated,” Lydia remarked as her hand suddenly grabbed Stiles’s bouncing leg. He hadn’t even realized he’d been shaking it until he felt her nails digging into him. He recoiled in pain and tried to slap her hand away from him.

“Ow, ow, _ow_!” He winced and whined until she loosened her death grip. “I’m not _agitated_ ,” he said, and then stopped and thought about it. “Well, okay, I am.” Lydia gave him an expectant look, obviously waiting for him to continue. Stiles looked over at Danny and Jackson; the two of them were busy playing football with scraps of paper to really care about what he and Lydia were talking about. He sighed. “This guy I’m texting.” Stiles said, like that explained everything.

Lydia nodded, because even with that small amount of information she still understood. “Whatever you do, don’t put out right away. Boys like what they can’t have.” Stiles raised an eyebrow and looked over at Jackson. Lydia rolled her eyes. “Trust me, I make him work for it.”

Stiles bit on his lower lip, leaning in closer and lowering his voice. “Okay, but this guy… he’s a little older.” Suddenly Danny was pulling up his chair right beside them.

Lydia titled her head, looking amused and surprised all at the same time. “Not bad Stilinski – unless… he’s not married is he? Or still in the closet? Never date dudes who are still in the closet. Way too messy.” Danny said. Stiles felt his face heating.

“I don’t think so? I mean, I just met him last weekend. We’ve only been texting really.” Danny made a skeptical face, while Lydia lost whatever interest she’d previously had in this conversation.

“Jesus Christ Stiles, I thought we were talking about a _real guy_ for a second, not just some random number.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder and dismissed herself from the general vicinity of Stiles. Danny looked a little more sympathetic.

“Don’t listen to her, relationships have to start somewhere, right?” Stiles nodded, though he still felt somewhat discouraged. He looked down at his phone to see that Derek hadn’t replied yet. And maybe he never would again; maybe he didn’t want anything beyond a text relationship. “Look, you seem like an alright guy, so I’m gonna give you some advice. If by the end of next week you guys haven’t hooked up in person, it’s probably not worth it.” Danny shrugged and then returned to Jackson.

Stiles bit at his lower lip, and he stared at his phone until it _finally_  blinked to life, showing he had one message from Derek.

**_Derek:_ **

**Yeah, it is. You suggesting something?**

Stiles took a deep breath, looked over at Lydia and Danny, and then he started typing.

**_Stiles:_ **

**You, me, your couch – I’m sure we can figure out something to do to cure that boredom of yours. I can be there for four.**

He sent it and the next five minutes of his life passed by at the slowest rate time has ever passed in his entire life. Finally Derek replied.

**_Derek:_ **

**Sounds good. I’ll see you then.**

Stiles smiled, his heart doing a funny little flip in his chest.

**_Stiles:_ **

**:)**

“That’s quite the smile Stilinski.” Lydia remarked, but when Stiles looked up she wasn’t even looking at him, too intent on texting. Stiles tried to relax; he was almost positive his smile looked borderline psychotic. Todd yipped and nipped at Stiles’s shoelaces, expressing his own excitement.

“Yeah,” Stiles paused, bringing a hand up to his face to try and physically wipe his smile off. It didn’t work. “Yeah. I’m hanging out with him later.” He peered back down at his phone, re-reading the message in case he’d managed to somehow misinterpret – but no, Derek wanted to see him. _Stiles_ specifically. In his apartment. On his couch.

The bell rang, snapping him out of his unnaturally speechless state. “Aww, isn’t that cute.” Lydia patted his cheek a couple times and then brushed by him on her way out of the room. Stiles should’ve been freaking out about that – Lydia Martin actually _touching_ him _oh sweet Jesus_ – but he was too busy freaking out about _Derek_ _motherfucking Hale_.

He made his way towards Scott and overheard his friend using him as an excuse to hang out with Isaac, so being the solid wingman that he was (and since he just made new plans that were – no offence to Scott – a lot better than the ones he’d had before) he bumped Scott on his way out the door, quickly saying that Scott was free to go over to Isaac’s since Stiles was busy after school.

He got through the rest of the day just barely managing to contain himself – though he was pretty sure his teachers and all of his classmates were pretty fed up with Todd and his inability to sit still for longer than two seconds at a time. The fox couldn’t help himself though; the two of them were vibrating with excitement and nervous energy.

By the time the last bell sounded Stiles ran out of the school without pausing for anything. He climbed into his jeep and headed home to shower and get ready to see Derek.


	4. Chapter 4

Derek was just getting out of the shower when he heard his phone ringing in the next room over. He wrapped his towel around his waist, securing it with one hand while he used the other to answer the call. “Hello?” He checked the clock on his bedside table to see that he had less than five minutes left before Stiles was due to show up.

“Hey bro, how’s your day off going?” Laura’s voice chimed. Derek began rummaging through his drawers, pulling out shirts and shoving them back in when he realized they weren’t good enough to wear, not when this was going to be Stiles’s first time seeing Derek out of his tacky coffee shop uniform.

“It’s going good,” he said, slamming one drawer shut to open the next. “Yeah, it’s great,” he said again, and there was a short pause. He was halfway through the next drawer when he realized his sister hadn’t said anything else. “Laura?”

“Why do you sound so happy right now?” She asked, and for a split moment Derek regretted everything. “Do you seriously hate working at my shop _that_ much?” She asked, clearly offended.

Derek rolled his eyes. “No. I just haven’t had a day off in a long time. It’s nice.” He looked over at Lobo, who was wagging his tail and tilting his head to the side. “Lobo and I are spending some quality time together.” The wolf let his tongue loll out the side of his mouth as he padded out of the room. “Well, we were.”

“What are you up to now then?” She asked. Derek grabbed the last shirt in his drawer, letting out a sigh of relief. It was a navy blue v-neck, one he’d almost forgotten he’d had.

“Gettin’ dressed.” Derek replied, moving on to the next drawer where he pulled out a pair of jeans and tossed them on the bed next to where he laid the shirt out.

“You going out?” Laura inquired, because apparently when Derek wasn’t at the store it was still her duty to keep an eye on him for their parents.

Derek sighed, rubbing at his forehead. “No Laura. I’m staying in. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go.”

“Go? But I thought you-,” she started to protest but he interrupted.

“Goodbye Laura!” He grumbled into the phone and then hung up, taking a deep breath to settle himself. He loved his family. He really did. But they were obnoxiously overbearing.

As he set the phone down he heard a knock on his front door. He quickly went to answer it, only realizing as he was opening the door that he’d neglected to cover up in anything other than the towel wrapped around his hips. The breeze from the hallway gave him goose bumps, especially since his skin was still damp from the shower.

It was too late to do anything about it though, because the door was already hanging half-open and Stiles was standing there, his mouth hanging open in an extremely distracting way, and his eyes slowly trailing down the exposed body that was basically naked, right in front of him. Derek cleared his throat and those wandering eyes snapped right up to meet his.

“Hi.” Derek said, though there was more he wanted to say. Maybe explain why he was standing there clad only in a towel.

“H-hi.” Stiles stammered, and instantly blushed. It was cute. Really, really fucking cute. Derek decided Stiles needed to be blushing _always_.

“You okay?” Derek asked, leaning on the doorframe and tilting his head. Lobo joined them, rubbing up against Derek’s leg as he mirrored Derek’s stance. Todd was behind Stiles; the fox looked a little antsy, bouncing from side to side.

“Y-yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” Stiles asked, rubbing at his cheek with his hand. He cleared his throat. “This is a good look for you.” He motioned at Derek.

“You think? I thought I might try to talk Laura into making this the new uniform for the coffee shop.” Derek replied, smirking.

Stiles smirked too. “Oh yeah? I bet business would soar. You could sell anything with those abs.” Stiles said and Todd yipped his agreement. Derek chuckled and opened the door all the way.

“Come on inside. You can hang out in the living room while I get dressed. Get acquainted with the couch.” Derek said, leading Stiles through his apartment to where his television and couch were. It was a small place, he didn't own much, but he wasn’t exactly throwing parties or having people over for dinner. Not usually.

He left Stiles on the couch, quickly disappearing into his room and throwing his clothes on. He didn’t really have time to fix his hair, but it didn’t look too disastrous. When he left his bedroom and returned to the living room he found Lobo sitting directly at Stiles’s feet, staring up at the boy. The two of them seemed to be locked in some sort of staring match.

“I think he wants to eat me.” Stiles said and Lobo barked. Loudly. Stiles flinched, but didn’t blink.

Derek chuckled, walking around the couch and sitting next to Stiles, their knees knocking together. “He doesn’t want to eat you. He’s just curious. We don’t get many visitors.” Derek said, and he didn’t really know _why_ he’d divulged that much information. Stiles just nodded though, obviously reserving any judgements.

“Todd’s the total opposite around strangers. He practically barrels into them. It can be a bit overwhelming.” Stiles said, and he looked over at Derek. Derek scoffed.

“A _bit_ overwhelming? Your fox has so much energy he could probably power an entire city. He also doesn’t understand the concept of personal space.” And even as Derek was saying this, he was nudging his thigh up against Stiles’s. He didn’t know why, but there was a strong pull to just _touch_ Stiles. Any form of physical contact really, and Derek just felt better. Like he could take a breath and relax.

It was nice.

There was a lot about Stiles that was nice.

They’d only been texting for less than a week and Derek already felt as if he’d know the boy for years. They hadn’t even spent time face to face and he already felt comfortable enough to tease and touch, even though it was the bare minimum of both, since he was still a little nervous. But still, he hadn’t felt like this in a very, very long time. He really liked Stiles, and he was only just beginning to get to know him.

So yeah, Derek was pretty much fucked.

΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅

“Scott! You made it!” Erica shouted happily as she swung her arms around Scott’s neck and pulled him into a tight hug. Scott didn’t necessarily know how to handle her, but hugs were always welcome, and though she was blunt she seemed really nice. “You can just leave your bag where ever, we’re all downstairs.” She tugged on his hand and led him towards one of the closed doors in the front hallway.

He let his bag slide off his shoulder to the floor and then allowed her to pull him along with her. They made it down the stairs without stumbling, and she led them into a bigger room that had three couches and a large flat screen mounted on the wall.

Isaac and Boyd were already lounging on the couches, the two of them sprawled out across a couch each. Kunu and Scout were lying down together on the third couch. Harley was pacing around Scott and Erica while Copper sat at Scott’s feet, leaning against him and nudging at his hand. His hound was just as anxious as him.

“Hey Scott!” Isaac said, jumping to his feet. Scout jumped off the couch to join Isaac’s side as he walked over to greet him. “Did you find the place okay?” He asked and Scott nodded.

“Yeah, I actually work at the Vet Clinic just around the corner, so I know the neighbourhood.” Scott answered, and then stood there at a complete loss about what to say next. Isaac was smiling at him, and Erica was nudging him forward towards the couches. The three of them joined Boyd, who nodded his greeting to Scott. “So, have we figured out what we’re doing our project on?” He asked, a poor attempt to create conversation, but hey, at least he was trying.

Erica pursed her lips, looking thoughtful. “Would a baking soda volcano get us a passing grade?” She asked and Boyd chuckled.

“I don’t think so,” he replied, sitting up so she could sit next to him on the couch. The only space open, now that the familiars had all bunched together on the last couch, was the spot next to Isaac. Scott took a steadying breath and sat down, hoping the other boy couldn’t hear how fast his heart was hammering in his chest.

“We could grow something in three different liquids to see which one makes the plant grow stronger or faster, or something. I don’t know.” Isaac contributed. Erica shrugged, Boyd looked a little skeptical but nodded, and Scott didn’t really have a better idea so he nodded. “Alright then, it’s settled. Tomorrow we’ll run it by Harris and see what he says.”

As soon as that was decided it was like the floodgates of conversation had opened, and Scott was being drowned by things he didn’t really know anything about. He really wanted to say something, relate to what they were talking about, but they were all really close friends. They had inside jokes and similar interests and history.

Scott felt like an outsider. But that feeling only lasted for about thirty seconds before Erica turned to him and demanded he take her side in whatever argument she’d gotten herself into with Isaac and Boyd. “Strange shit’s going on Scott, and the cops don’t want us to know. But a girl just doesn’t wind up dead without her familiar. It just doesn’t happen.” She stated, crossing her arms and defiantly jutting out her jaw to show just how stubborn she was.

Boyd rolled his eyes. “You just _want_ it to be something. I know how boring you think this town is. A conspiracy would make your day.”

Erica narrowed her eyes at him, and then she smiled. “Yeah, you’re right. It’d be exciting, don’t you think? If something was seriously going down? Something sinister.” She said, lowering her voice into a haunting tone.

Isaac laughed, shaking his head. “You’re ridiculous Erica.” He looked over at Scott. “What do you think Scott?”

Scott hesitated. Stiles had developed some of his own theories, but Scott hadn’t really been paying attention. “Uhh. Maybe the government’s running experiments?” He said, but didn’t sound too sure. Isaac smiled and looked over at Erica.

Scott followed his gaze to see her grinning madly. “Yes. _Yes_. That’s exactly it! Brilliant Scott! The government is to be blamed for absolutely _everything_.” At first Scott didn’t know if she was teasing him, but Boyd groaned and rolled his head back on the couch.

“What have you _done_?” He grumbled, and following that Erica went on a ten minute spiel about how the government was dosing their water supplies with drugs, and lacing their food with genetically altering steroids.

“You’ve created a monster.” Isaac whispered and Scott smiled innocently. He looked over at Isaac, biting his lower lip.

“Sorry.” He whispered back and Isaac grinned.

Suddenly Erica stopped talking, making Scott look over to see if he’d missed something, which apparently he had because Erica was standing up from the couch, pulling Boyd with her. “I think my mom’s home. She’ll probably want help with the groceries or something.” She turned to look at Boyd, who looked like he wasn’t about to move off the couch. “Come on Boyd. Help my mom with the groceries.”

“Why can’t Isaac help her?” Boyd asked and Erica glared at him.

“Because you have more muscle than Isaac and groceries are heavy, now get your ass upstairs.” She turned towards the familiars. “That means you too Kunu.” She pulled Boyd off the couch and dragged him up the stairs, their two familiars following shortly after them.

Isaac and Scott were practically alone now, considering their familiars were merely extensions of themselves. Scout and Copper were lying down side by side on the couch, almost touching, much in the same way Scott and Isaac were sitting quite close together.

Scott looked over at Isaac, who was staring at the television, so Scott looked away, staring hard at his hands. He’d never been alone with Isaac, and it was thrilling and terrifying all at the same time. He didn’t know how long Erica and Boyd would be, but he knew if he didn’t say something soon things would be too awkward to recover from.

So, he said, “Does Boyd know Erica’s like, madly in love with him?”

΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅

“I can’t believe you’ve never seen Captain America.” Stiles groaned, exasperated by how little Derek cared about movies and super heroes in general. Derek shrugged, nudging Stiles in the side.

“Sorry I’m not a huge nerd, _nerd_.” Stiles swatted Derek’s hand away, protecting his extremely ticklish sides from Derek’s ongoing attempts to poke him there. “You’ve never seen War Horse, so that makes us even.”

“ _Ugh_. Boring old war movies? Really? Jesus Christ, how old _are_ you?” Stiles asked and rolled his eyes. Derek snorted.

“And you’re, what? Six years old?” Derek grabbed Stiles’s hand to stop him from trying to reciprocate.

“Says the one jabbing me in the side like he’s a four year old pulling on my pigtails to try and get my attention. Y’know, my dad warned me about guys like you.” Stiles replied, trying to pull himself free from Derek’s grasp with absolutely no luck. Derek smirked.

“Maybe if you sat still instead of _vibrating_ I wouldn’t have to resort to these sorts of measures.” Derek said, grabbing Stiles’s other hand and retraining him entirely. Todd made a small growling noise, which Lobo responded to by grumbling lowly. The fox jumped towards the couch, nipping at the air, before bouncing backwards, almost knocking into the television. “Can you _please_ get your fox to settle down? He’s gonna smash the TV.”

Stiles wriggled, trying to squirm away. “Good!” He declared and then, at Todd, “Smash that TV boy, break it boy.” The fox wiggled its butt in the air and pounced at Stiles’s kicking legs. “No! I am not the TV!” The fox nibbled on the fabric of Stiles’s jeans. “Traitor!”

Lobo rumbled, sitting up and barking at Derek. Instantly Derek let go of Stiles, looking over at his wolf with a frown on his face. “What time is it?” He asked and Stiles looked down at his wrist to check his watch.

“Almost six.” Stiles answered, and then, “Shit! It’s almost six already?” He jumped up from the couch and retrieved his phone from where it’d fallen out of his pocket on to the floor during their tickling match. He checked to see if either one of his parent’s had left him a message.

**_Dad:_ **

**What time will you be home son? Your mother wants you back for dinner.**

Stiles breathed out a huff through his nose.

**_Stiles:_ **

**I’ll be home before six thirty.**

He didn’t want to leave, he’d barely had any time to spend with Derek. But he also didn’t want his parents knowing about him seeing an older man. An older man who didn’t necessarily know Stiles wasn’t eighteen yet.

“I gotta head out soon.” He said and looked over at Derek to see the older man smirking at him.

“Curfew?” He asked, his tone light and teasing. Stiles rolled his eyes.

“Hey, just because I live with my parents still, doesn’t mean you can discriminate against me, okay?” Stiles said, sitting back down and kicking Derek’s foot playfully. Derek raised an eyebrow.

“How am I discriminating against you?” He asked. Stiles groaned.

“I don’t know man. I just… I don’t want to leave yet.” Stiles pouted shamelessly. Derek made a dramatic sad face.

“Oh, poor Stiles.” He teased and Stiles punched him in the arm.

“You’re a jerk.” Stiles decided, and then stood from the couch. “Obviously I have overstayed my welcome and I will be on my way.” Derek’s eyebrow was still raised as Stiles began to walk away. He’d almost reached the front door when he felt a hand on his wrist, gently tugging him to turn around.

“You’re a bit of a drama queen.” Derek said, chuckling. Stiles pursed his lips, crossing his arms. “It makes a little more sense now.”

Stiles frowned. “What does?”

“You. The way you are. The way your familiar is.” Derek got really quiet then, and behind his gaze Stiles could see him calculating something. “I don’t really… I don’t know what this is Stiles. I didn’t really know who you were, or why I gave you my number.” He paused, and Stiles could feel his hands beginning to shake. If Derek was about to say this had all been some mistake… Stiles wouldn’t even know what to say or how to take it. Because they hadn’t _done_ anything. Sure, a little flirting, but that was the extent of the intimacy. “But I’m glad I did.” Derek finished.

Stiles blinked.

And then he reached up, grabbed Derek’s shirt in his hands, and pulled him until their lips crashed together in a clumsy, unexpected kiss. A shock coursed through Stiles, and Todd made a surprised whimpering sound as his fur puffed out and he shook himself off.

Derek’s lips were a little rough, and even drier, but Stiles flicked his tongue out, licking at Derek’s lower lip. The kiss was a lot smoother then, and it was a little wet and a little awkward, but it felt _right_. Derek’s hands had slipped themselves around Stiles’s hips to his lower back, and as he pulled them closer together the kiss deepened.

Stiles slid his hands around Derek’s neck, tangling his fingers in Derek’s hair.

When they finally pulled away from each other, Stiles was out of breath. Derek’s pupils had blown wide, his green eyes now almost completely black. He looked a little stunned, which made Stiles chuckle. “You okay Hale?” He asked, and Derek seemed to snap back into focus.

“What time do you have to be home?” He asked and Stiles looked down at his watch.

“Half an hour. Why?” He asked and before he could say anything else Derek grabbed onto Stiles’s wrist and dragged him back to the couch where he proceeded to lie down, pulling Stiles over top of him, and they spent the next fifteen minutes before Stiles had to leave, making out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why does this chapter have so many couches in it??!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentines Day everyone!!!

“Someone got laid last night.” Lydia observed as she sat down gracefully at the seat across from Stiles. He blinked, only realizing then that he’d been fully immersed in the memory of yesterday; of Derek’s soft lips pressing against his. His own lips were still tingling, nerves on fire from the experience.

Danny raised an eyebrow, looking surprised and impressed. “Hot damn Stilinski.” Stiles blushed, his mouth half open to begin protesting. He hesitated though, realizing that sexing up an older man gave him a bit of street cred.

“Is it that obvious?” He asked, keeping his voice steady. Lydia’s pursed lips turned up in a half smile.

“Well either you got felt up or you won the lottery.” She shrugged, reaching into her purse to pull out a tube of lip gloss. She applied it, smacking her lips together before turning in her seat towards Stiles. “Either way you’re telling us all about it.”

Jackson groaned, pushing out of his desk. “Count me out.” He grumbled, and then crossed the room to join some Lacrosse boys in another group. They were supposed to be working on their experiments; Harris had given them an extra class to work on ideas since apparently only three out of seven groups had come up with anything.

So, really, it was basically just an extra period for Stiles and his group, considering they were planning on setting things on fire after school next Tuesday. They already had their list of materials, and Lydia and Danny were going to go pick the supplies up after school today, so they were free to do whatever they wanted without the worry that Harris would condemn them to an hour of detention after school.

“Well it wasn’t anything too serious,” Stiles started, and immediately Lydia looked bored, “Okay! Alright.” He leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice and glancing around to make sure no one else was listening – even though there was a good chance this conversation was going to make its way into the gossip mill anyways. “I went over to his apartment and we talked,” Stiles paused, wondering if he should tell them the whole story.

He knew that the chances of anyone finding out who Stiles was seeing were slim – no one would ever suspect that Derek was interested in a guy like Stiles. But there was still a chance, and that small chance meant that Derek could get in trouble for doing things with a minor.

Suddenly Stiles regretted not being honest. Usually he didn’t feel bad about being less than forthcoming with the truth; he was good at both lying horizontally and lying to falsify or omit certain information. He liked to think of it as simply telling a different version of the truth; a version that wouldn’t get him grounded, yelled at, or laughed at in some cases.

But now he and Derek had kissed, and they’d texted almost all night, and Stiles couldn’t risk letting the truth get out. Subtlty wasn’t one of his greatest traits, but when it mattered he could keep his mouth shut. So that’s exactly what he did.

Lydia frowned, giving him a perturbed look. “ _And_?” She asked, expecting more, but she wasn’t going to get it.

“And that’s it. We talked. It was nice.” He tried not to smile, but he couldn’t help it. The memories were still fresh and Derek had felt damn _good_ pressed up against him on the couch. Lydia sighed, turning away to pat at her familiar’s head.

Danny was smirking at Stiles though, clearly not convinced. “I respect that you don’t kiss and tell Stiles, but your face is saying everything right now.” He patted Stiles on the shoulder and stood, joining Jackson and leaving Lydia and Stiles alone.

Lydia spent the rest of the class completely ignoring Stiles, which pretty much meant things were back to the way they used to be. Stiles was strangely okay with it.

He left her alone with her owl and slowly crept his way into Scott’s group; pulling up a chair and shimmying himself into their circle with about as much subtlty as a rhino. The legs of his seat scraped against the floor, signalling his approach. If that wasn’t enough, Todd had managed to hop up on Scott’s desk, planting himself there and staring at Scott intently.

Scott didn’t even look over his shoulder. “Hey Stiles,” He greeted, chuckling quietly. Stiles grinned widely, tapping his fingers against his friend’s desk.

“Hey bro, how’s your group going?” Stiles glanced over at the other three; Erica was watching him with little interest, Boyd seemed to be glowering at him, and Isaac was smiling politely. “Isaac! Buddy! How’s it going?”

Scott looked over at Isaac just as Isaac looked away from Scott to look at Stiles. “It’s going alright?” He seemed a little confused; probably because Stiles had never actually talked to him before.

“Sweet.” Stiles said, nodding his approval. There was a short tense moment, filled with an awkward silence, but it dissipated as soon as Erica sat up a little straighter and continued on with whatever conversation they were having before Stiles’s arrival.

“So are we all good for Sunday then?” She asked, and the three boys nodded. “Excellent! Boyd and I will grab the plants and Isaac and Scott, you two can pick up the different liquids.” After that she turned to Boyd, “Are you working tomorrow?”

“Yeah, just the lunch shift though, and then Derek’s coming in for the evening.” Boyd answered. Isaac made a small scoffing sound, which Stiles almost didn’t hear over the sudden escalation of his heart beating in his chest.

“That dude’s been really weird lately.” Isaac said, and Stiles couldn’t help his curiosity.

“Derek’s being weird? How?” He asked, and the entire group turned to look at him. Isaac and Boyd exchanged a glance, probably wondering how Stiles even knew Derek.

Boyd shrugged. “He smiles. He didn’t do that at the beginning of the week. Now he does.”

Isaac nodded, “It’s a little creepy.”

Stiles chuckled, feeling his face heating up. “Interesting.” He said, and left it at that.

Derek was smiling because of Stiles. And now Stiles couldn’t stop smiling. But in favour of not being labelled _creepy_ , like Derek had been, Stiles managed to contain himself until the end of class. As soon as he was free of Mr. Harris’s classroom he was on his phone.

**_Stiles:_ **

**_Heard you’ve been smiling a lot Hale, I wonder why?_ **

He slipped his phone into his pocket but hovered outside of his English classroom; Menhennet was more of a phone Nazi than Harris, which was impressive and horrifying all at the same time. Impressively horrifying.

She waddled passed Stiles into the room, her hawk familiar staring him down from where it perched on her shoulder. After they disappeared into the room Stiles’s phone vibrated and he checked it quickly, knowing the bell for the next class would ring any second.

**_Derek:_ **

**_It’s a complete mystery._ **

Stiles smiled, sighing a little and slipping his phone away for the time being. He slid into the classroom and sat down just in time for the bell to sound.

΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅

“So this is a lot more boring than I thought it would be.” Erica said, sinking into the couch and staring at the three beakers they’d switched the plants into. They watered the first plant with tap water, the second with rubbing alcohol, and the third with vitamin water. They’d already written their hypothesis – the one with water wouldn’t change, the one with the alcohol would definitely die, and the one with vitamin water was going to grow into a super plant.

So far none of the plants had withered or grown ten times in size.

“We are literally just staring at plants right now.” Isaac commented, his eyes wide and trained on them.

“It’s like watching paint dry.” Boyd groaned. Scott chuckled.

“Yeah, or like listening to one of Harris’s lectures.” Scott added. The whole group laughed at that, which Scott was proud of. He got to hear Isaac’s melodic chuckle, which was always worth it.

“Who’s terrible idea was this?” Isaac asked, and Erica narrowed her eyes.

“Yours!” She shouted, rolling her eyes.

“Oh,” Isaac smiled, “Right.” He shrugged, biting his lower lip. “Sorry.”

Boyd snorted. “At least it’s better than a baking soda volcano.” Erica smacked him on the shoulder.

“Baking soda volcano was a brilliant idea, and we wouldn’t be sitting here with our thumbs up our asses watching absolutely nothing happen to these shitty plants.” She huffed out a frustrated sigh and crossed her arms. Harley looked agitated too; she jumped off the couch and started pacing in front of them. “Let’s go out and _do_ something.”

“Like what?” Boyd asked, pulling out his phone and scrolling through it. “We could catch a late movie.”

Isaac’s face fell, and his fingers were nervously tapping against each other. “I can’t stay out late tonight. My curfew’s seven.” It was five now, which meant Scott only had two more hours with Isaac.

Erica looked perturbed for a moment, exchanging a heated glare with Boyd before she seemed to relax a little. “Okay, so let’s go to the café. We’ll have you home before seven, promise.” She said, her tone softer than before. Isaac nodded.

“Okay, yeah. Sounds good. Why wouldn’t I want to be at work on my day off?” Isaac asked, his tone light and teasing. Erica clapped her hands together.

“It’s settled. To the Hale Café!” She said, standing from the couch. Harley followed at her heels, followed by Kunu and Boyd. Isaac stood from the couch, offering a hand to help Scott up as well. Scott smiled, accepting the offer.

“Thanks.” He said gratefully, once he was on his feet. Isaac smiled, motioning for Scott to lead the way.

΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅

“Stiles?” Scott asked, and Isaac followed his gaze to see Stiles leaning against the counter. Derek was there too, a faint blush in his cheeks and a startled expression in his eyes. He cleared his throat and handed Stiles a drink. He called to Lobo; his wolf was sitting at Stiles’s feet, sniffing at the fox familiar with keen interest. The wolf lingered until Derek called him again, and then finally obeyed and disappeared behind the counter.

“Hey Scott! Isaac!” He nodded at them, smiling brightly. “And Erica and Boyd. Cool. You guys working on your assignment for Harris?” He made his way over to them, casually throwing a glance over his shoulder at Derek, who was at the cash register now, waiting for Isaac and the group to place their orders.

“We were but it got boring, so we came here instead.” Scott answered. “I thought you were spending time with your dad?” Stiles shot another uneasy look in Derek’s direction, which Isaac thought was odd, but when it came to both Derek and Stiles odd seemed to be their norm. It made sense that together the weirdness would just be intensified.

“Right, yeah, I said that didn’t I?” Stiles answered Scott’s question with another question. Scott raised an eyebrow, obviously wise to his friend’s attempts to derail a line of questioning. “Well I did hang out with him, but then it got boring… so I came here instead…” Stiles parroted what Scott had said only moments before, but Scott’s sigh signalled his surrender to Stiles’s antics. “Anyways, I should get going. Homework and stuff, y’know.”

As Stiles walked out of the café, Derek’s eyes followed him until the younger boy disappeared, and then Derek’s focus snapped back to the group. “What can I get for you?” He asked, his smile a little strained.

“Iced caramel macchiato for me,” Erica smiled, her eyes trailing across Derek’s face shamelessly. Harley’s fur furrowed, which is what always happened when Erica was talking to a guy she thought was hot. Isaac smirked; Derek seemed to be completely oblivious of Erica and her attempts at blatant flirtation. Boyd, on the other hand, was well aware of what she was doing, and was currently brooding with his back turned to her.

The two of them were ridiculous, and they needed to hook up already. Though, that’s exactly what Erica had said about Scott and him.

Boyd placed his order without looking at Derek, and then Scott and Isaac ordered their drinks. Derek went away to make them, and while they waited Erica claimed a table in the back of the café. Once they got their drinks they all sat down and settled into an easy flow of conversation.

Isaac was worried at first that Scott might not be able to adjust to the group; Isaac, Boyd, and Erica were pretty tight knit. They had inside jokes and years of friendship, but Scott didn’t have any trouble fitting in. He laughed at Erica’s lewd jokes, talked with Boyd about sports and politics, and whenever he and Isaac spoke, Isaac saw more and more what made Scott so easy and fun to be around.

He was smart and sweet, and he was laid back enough to deal with Erica. That patience was probably due to the fact that Stiles was his best friend, but the fortitude was there, etched into Scott’s character. Scott was just a good guy. Pure of heart. Sensitive and strong and passionate. Everything about him drew Isaac to him, made him want to be by his side.

Which was why, at the end of the night when it was time to say goodbye, he didn’t want to leave. He knew if he stayed any longer his father would punish him. There was no tolerance when it came to curfew; just another way his father controlled him. But still, Isaac didn’t want to say goodbye yet.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” Scott was saying as he swung a leg over his motorbike where Copper was already sitting in the sidecar. Isaac took a step forward, prepared to linger in the café’s parking lot just a little bit longer. Erica grabbed a hold of his arm though, pulling him away from Scott and towards her car.

“Bye!” Erica called in reply, which Boyd echoed as he rounded her van and hopped into the back seat. Isaac cast one more prolonged look over his shoulder before allowing Erica to lead him into the passenger seat. Scout hopped into the back of the van where the rest of their familiars were already situated.

Erica and Boyd both knew about the abuse; though they didn’t talk about it. Not because they didn’t want to – Erica had brought it up a lot when she first found out, threatening to call child services and somehow adopt Isaac into her family – but Isaac shut her down every time. Boyd expressed his worry in a different way; he was silent and stoic, but firm in his wordless promise that the moment Isaac needed out, he’d have Isaac’s back.

As they drove to Isaac’s they were mostly quiet, listening to the radio and the constant drone of whatever station Erica’s mom liked to listen to. When they got to the house Isaac’s relentless, pointless hope that his father wouldn’t be home was again crushed, just like it always was. There was no escaping his father.

“Call me later,” Erica ordered and Isaac nodded, grabbing his school bag out of the back before making the walk up to the front porch. He took a deep breath and pushed open the door, entering the house without another thought.

It was dark, which meant his dad was most likely already passed out upstairs. He sighed with relief, kicking off his shoes and putting them in the closet. He and Scout quietly made their way up the stairs and immediately into his bedroom. He shut the door, grimacing at the scraping of wood against wood as it closed entirely.

After a few strained moments of listening for any signs he’d disturbed his father, he let out the breath he’d been holding and tiptoed over to his bed. He crawled under the covers, reaching over to his nightstand and switching on the lamp. Scout hopped up onto the bed, lying down beside him and resting his head on Isaac’s lap.

Isaac stared up at the ceiling for a long time, imagining all the scenarios that ended with his lips on Scott’s, or at least his hands on him. Innocent thoughts quickly went astray when suddenly his imagination was creating vivid images of Scott’s bare chest and smooth skin; soft to the touch and warm in Isaac’s mouth.

It wasn’t long before the hardness in his jeans began to grow uncomfortable, so he quietly crawled out of bed to retrieve his pajama pants, and the bottle of lube he kept hidden away under his desk. Once he was back inside his bed and under the covers, and after he kicked Scout off the bed to gain at least a little privacy, he slipped his hand under the elastic waistband of his pants.

He stroked himself slowly with lube-slicked fingers, biting down on his lower lip to stifle any moans that threatened to break the silence around him. Each pull brought a fresh wave of pleasure rocking through him, sending jolts of electricity through him that had his hips jerking involuntarily. It wasn’t long until he climaxed; a small gasp the only thing escaping his shaking body.

He lay there for a moment, breathing heavily with his eyes closed, a picture of Scott seared into his brain. After he regained a steady breath he grabbed a towel from his closet and cleaned himself off, changing into a fresh pair of boxers and pajama bottoms.

When he returned to his bed he crashed instantly, letting the heaviness of sleep carry him off into a world where Scott’s touch wasn’t just a ghost in his imagination, but the fuel to a very vivid, happy dream.

΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅

“Are you sure you go to school?” Derek asked, leaning against the counter and eyeing Stiles suspiciously. Stiles seemed to never be in class, which didn’t make sense with the demands of college. Stiles rolled his eyes, leaning on the other side of the counter.

“Obviously.” He remarked, resting his chin in his hand. “I do co-op at the high school though, so I spend most of my time in there instead of sitting in lecture halls.” Stiles reached down with his free hand to fiddle with gift cards on display at the counter.

“Co-op at the high school for pyrotechnics?” Derek asked, recalling Stiles’s mention of his choice of study. Stiles was chewing on his lower lip, which was extremely distracting, Derek almost missed the quirk in Stiles’s eyebrows. “What?”

“I didn’t think you’d remember that.” Stiles replied, smiling shyly. Derek fought the urge to lean over right then and there, and kiss Stiles.

“Of course I remember that,” Derek frowned, “I remember everything you say.”

Stiles chuckled, and if Derek didn’t know any better he would’ve thought it had a nervous edge to it. “Everything?” Stiles asked, licking his lips – again, very distracting. “I tend to talk a lot, so that’s an impressive feat.”

Derek smirked. “At least you’re not in denial about it.” Stiles reached over, playfully nudging Derek’s shoulder. Lobo let out a bark, hopping up on the counter and almost knocking Stiles over. “I still can’t get over the fact that my familiar likes you more than he likes me.” Lobo tilted his head innocently, but it was obvious where his loyalty lied.

The moment Stiles had walked through the café door, the wolf had trotted over to him and Todd. Derek called for him to return only once before realizing it was futile. So while Stiles, Todd, and Lobo waited on the other side of the counter, Derek was content with observing Lobo and Todd’s interactions.

The two familiars were always sniffing at each other; always close but never touching. Derek could feel the static building, felt his own need to touch Stiles growing. As much as he wanted to though, he couldn’t. Stiles kept a safe distance between them whenever they were in public, which was odd but Derek wasn’t going to press the issue.

“It’s not my fault your wolf likes me better.” Stiles smirked, shrugging. “If he keeps it up I’m gonna have to steal him away from you.” Stiles winked and Derek rolled his eyes.

“Take him, he’s a traitor anyways.” Derek deadpanned, glaring at his wolf. Lobo let out a low whine, resting his chin on the counter and staring up at Derek with big, round eyes. “Don’t give me that.” Stiles laughed, clapping his hands together.

“Oh my god he’s adorable.” Stiles smiled, and the wolf looked up at him with his puppy dog eyes. Stiles’s hand reached out, hovering over Lobo’s head but freezing mere inches away. Derek held his breath, his brain tingling as Stiles’s hand hung there.

Before Derek could say anything, or reach out to take Stiles’s extended hand in his own, they were interrupted. “Stiles?” Scott sounded surprised to see Stiles at the café, but he hadn’t noticed the awkwardness passing between him and Derek at the moment.

Stiles’s hand didn’t retreat, so Derek took the opportunity to slide his drink across the counter for him to take. He called Lobo once and the wolf didn’t move, so with more urgency he called for his wolf to return to his side. It was unorthodox for Lobo to be so attached to Stiles and Todd, and there was no doubt in Derek’s mind that there was going to be something floating around the gossip mill about it. A few of the customers occasionally glanced in their direction, curious frowns and subtle smirks telling Derek exactly the sort of things they were thinking.

Stiles gave Derek a nod of thanks, but his eyes seemed unfocused. He turned and greeted his friend – Derek had wondered why Stiles was friends with so many high school kids, but the fact that he did co-op at the school explained a couple things.

Stiles kept throwing glances over in Derek’s direction, ones with a lot more meaning than they would have held before Stiles almost touched Lobo. They’d have to talk about it sometime; clear the air. They made out and they’d hung out almost every night since, so it wasn’t like the subject of getting intimate was entirely off bounds… but it was still new, which made it a little scary.

Derek watched Stiles walk out of the café, silently regretting he hadn’t had a real chance to say goodbye. He’d text him later and worry about having the talk then. Right now he had angsty teens to deal with.

“What can I get for you?” He asked, plastering a smile on his face in an attempt to hide the fact that he held a little bit of contempt towards them; mostly because serving people wasn’t his favourite thing in the world, but also because Stiles decided to leave after they showed up.

“Iced caramel macchiato for me,” the young blond hummed, fixing Derek with an uncomfortably predatory smile. He did his best not to roll his eyes; it wasn’t like she was unattractive, she was just too young and he’d been hit on so many times today he was getting a little agitated with it.

He acted as if he couldn’t see the way she was undressing him with her eyes and proceeded to take the rest of the group’s orders. When he finished up with them he slipped into the back to grab his cellphone, quickly messaging Stiles before Laura realized no one was out front.

**_Derek:_ **

**Hey, do you think you could swing by my place tonight?**

He returned to his position out front, but the café was pretty much dead. He brought his phone with him, hiding it away in his apron and checking every ten seconds to see if Stiles had replied – which yes, it was a little bit much, but he wanted to see Stiles again, okay?

**_Stiles:_ **

**Sorry, can’t tonight. I’m busy pretty much all the way until the end of the week.**

Derek chewed on his lip, anxiously worrying that things were starting to get too intimate between them and Stiles was pulling away.

**_Stiles:_ **

**Does Friday night sound good?**

Derek let out a breath of relief.

**_Derek:_ **

**Sounds perfect.**

He paused, silently debating with himself over saying what he really wanted to say. Or, well, offer. He sighed, deciding he might as well try before he abandoned his courage completely.

**_Derek:_ **

**Do you want to stay the night?**

He stared at his phone for a solid two minutes before realizing he was being a little needy and pathetic. So instead of obsessing over his phone he busied himself with the task of wiping down the counters and refilling the cups and lids. Finally, when it was an hour left to go in his shift, he allowed himself one more peek at his phone.

**_Stiles:_ **

**Sounds perfect. :)**

Derek smiled, but quickly regained his composure and managed to keep it the rest of his night. When he left the café, Laura was giving him an odd look that meant she knew he was up to something, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was making it to the end of the week and seeing Stiles again.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a small addition in the tags; there will be some underage stuff (Teacher-student relationship is kinda illegal/frowned upon, and at this point in time Stiles is only 17? But yeah. Def some smut going on sooooooo)

The fire reflected in Stiles’s eyes; the flames dancing and mesmerizing him until they slowly diminished and ultimately snuffed out. He sighed, picking at the piece of wood with idle boredom.

“Stiles,” Danny’s dad spoke firmly, grabbing Stiles’s hand away, “We already talked about this.” His low tone was a subtle warning; a reminder that he had the power to remove Stiles from this part of the experiment.

“Yeah, yeah. I can look but I can’t touch.” He sat back in his chair, blankly staring across the parking lot at the fire station and trucks. They’d chosen this venue because this was the only time and place they could all meet up with Danny’s dad, who’d agreed to supervise them while they worked on Harris’s project.

Stiles managed to sit quietly still for all of two seconds before he started to become agitated. Todd yipped and whined, pouncing on his shoelaces in an attempt to get Stiles’s attention. Stiles reached down, patting the fox on the head a few times before sighing and throwing himself back on the grass behind him. They were at the edge of the station’s parking lot, sitting on the curb while Danny’s dad set things on fire on the open, clear asphalt.

“Here,” Stiles heard Lydia say, and then something landed on his stomach. He looked up to see her notebook, and then a pen smacked against his forehead and landed on the ground beside him. “You can handle writing the results without screwing it up, right?” She asked sweetly, but both her and her owl were staring him down with a hard glare, clearly unimpressed by his behaviour thus far.

Mr. Mahealani had told Stiles three times now not to mess with the fire or the materials, but that was basically like telling a child not to reach for the cookie jar and then leaving the jar right there out in the open on the very edge of the counter.

Stiles sat up and grabbed the pen, resigning himself to being Lydia’s lackey for the remainder of the project. He began jotting down all the notes; everything Lydia told him to, basically. His writing was almost completely illegible, but somehow Lydia was amongst the only few that could actually read it. Some of his teachers managed to suffer through deciphering it, but most of them asked him to type everything up and print it out for them if he was going to hand anything in.

As the afternoon progressed, Stiles managed to make it through the rest of their experiments without being reprimanded again. Todd, on the other hand, had knocked over the cans of fire repellent several times and refused to sit still or listen to anyone – including Stiles – which left most of the group feeling agitated and perturbed towards both Stiles and his familiar.

When it was time for their final experiment, the group seemed to be relieved their day was almost over. All they had left to do was spray down a piece of the wood with their strongest flame retardant, and then pour some arsenic on it and see if the retardant did anything to slow the extremely flammable chemical down from burning right through to the wood.

“Please,” Stiles pleaded, “Pleaseplease _please_.” Jackson rolled his eyes but Danny looked slightly amused; mostly worried though. Danny’s father raised a skeptical eyebrow. “I just wanna light the match.”

Lydia scoffed, shaking her head with an irritated pinch in her lips. “This from the mouth of the sheriff’s kid.” Lydia rolled her eyes but Mr. Mahealani looked considering for a moment.

Finally he sighed. “How about this,” He started, “I’ll get all of you geared up and then, with my supervision, Stiles can set this last one on fire and Jackson can use the fire extinguisher to put it out.” Todd yipped excitedly, bouncing up onto Stiles and launching himself off of Stiles’s stomach into the air. Jackson’s reptile looked content enough, flicking its tongue out a few times.

“All geared up?” Jackson asked, sounding borderline excited but obviously too cool to show any real emotion. Danny’s dad smirked.

“Yeah, you guys can put on some of the suits. They’re heavy, so be prepared to carry an extra seventy-five pounds, but I’m sure you boys can handle it.” He looked over at Lydia, smiling encouragingly, “There’s a suit for you too if you’re interested Ms. Martin.”

Lydia’s eyes narrowed, but quickly she brightened and smiled warmly at him. “Thank you Mr. Mahealani, but when I was younger I wanted to be the first female President with two Nobel prizes; not a firefighter. No offence.”

He nodded in understanding. “None taken.” He motioned for the boys to follow him while Lydia hung back and focused on typing endlessly on her phone. He led them into the station to where they kept the gear and equipment. “Alright, so Danny, you're just going to put on the coat, trousers, and boots. Stiles and Jackson will wear the helmets just to be safe.”

Stiles practically bounced all the way to the gear with Todd chirping excitedly at his feet. As they donned the gear Stiles began to truly appreciate how much it all weighed; if he had to wear this equipment every day he’d be as ripped as Derek.

 _Derek_. Stiles felt all mushy on the inside for a moment, sighing at the mere thought of Derek and all of his glorious muscles. Muscles that he would hopefully get to see and lick when he slept over at Derek’s place on Friday.

Admittedly he was still feeling giddy and nervous about the idea of spending an entire night with Derek – what if Stiles said something stupid? What if Derek realized, after spending so much time with Stiles, that Stiles was just some hyperactive teenager who’d lied about his age?

A lot of things could go wrong. But then, a lot of things could go right, and Stiles was going to remain optimistic.

After they were fully clothed in the fire gear – Mr. Mahealani had to help them with a few of the straps and zippers – they returned to Lydia out in the parking lot. Danny’s dad handed Jackson the fire extinguisher and then turned to Stiles, a tight smile on his face. “You light the match, toss it on the wood and then you take five steps back, understood?”

Stiles nodded, holding his hand out and waiting patiently for the matchsticks. Mr. Mahealani sighed a little, second-guessing himself before finally handing the box to Stiles. “Thank you.” Stiles said, smiling innocently. He reached into his bag and pulled out his phone, handing it to Lydia. “Do me a favour,” Stiles clicked open his camera app and Lydia rolled her eyes but she didn’t protest.

Stiles smiled, lighting the match and waiting to hear the click before he tossed it at the wood. He missed the first time, which drew a frustrated grunt from Jackson, but the second match found its mark.

The wood remained unlit for a few seconds, which allowed Stiles and Todd time to take their five big steps backwards, and then the wood erupted into flames. Jackson aimed the extinguisher and pulled the trigger, dousing the flames before they could spread.

“That was awesome!” Stiles exclaimed. Todd yipped his agreement, playfully wiggling his butt in the air.

Mr. Mahealani sighed. “Just… Remember that there are safe ways to handle fire too, okay Stiles?” He sounded a little defeated, but Stiles just kept smiling.

“Of course, sir,” Stiles nodded, and Todd sat down, puffing his chest out a little, “Safety is my real first name.” Danny smirked and Lydia rolled her eyes.

The three boys made their way back into the firehouse, slipping out of the gear and handing the extinguisher back to Mr. Mahealani. Stiles was about to walk out the door when Danny’s dad stopped him and held out his hand for the matches. “Forgetting something?” He asked and Stiles smiled innocently. He returned the box with a small shrug.

“Alright, I’ve just about hit my daily quota of Stiles so I’m going home now.” Lydia stood as they returned to the parking lot, lifting her arm at a ninety degree angle. Her owl flew down from the tree it had been perched in nearby, landing gracefully on her arm. “Thank you Mr. Mahealani, for supervising today.” She smiled brightly and he smiled just as warmly back.

“Anytime,” He nodded and Lydia made her way to her car, leaving the three boys alone with Mr. Mahealani.

“Yeah, I’m with Lydia.” Jackson scooped up his familiar and carried it with him as he made his way over to his Porsche. “See ya Danny! Thanks again Ryan!” Jackson called over his shoulder. Apparently he was on a first named basis with Danny’s dad, but that made sense considering he and Danny had been best friends basically since childhood.

“Stay out of trouble!” Mr. Mahealani replied before turning back towards Stiles. “I’d say the same to you but I have a feeling trouble’s your middle name.”

Stiles smirked. “Yep. Safety Trouble Stilinski.” Danny chuckled, but it sounded more like a pity laugh than an actual amused one. “Anyways, I should head out.” He grabbed his bag and phone, slinging it over his shoulder. “Thanks for supervising and putting up with my shit.”

“Just try not to set anything on fire,” Mr. Mahealani replied. Stiles smiled but he didn’t say anything.

He wasn’t going to make a promise that he couldn’t keep.

As he walked home, Todd trailing along at his feet, he pulled up the pictures that Lydia had snapped of him during the experiment.

In the fireman gear he looked small and awkward – but there was one picture where he didn’t look like a five year old playing pretend fireman. It was the pic that captured the precise moment the flames burst to life on the piece of wood, and Stiles was standing there with a look of complete and utter satisfaction on his face.

Stiles smirked, attaching the image file to a message.

_**Stiles:** _

**Fire turns me on ;)**

Stiles plugged his ear buds into his phone and listened to music while he walked back to his house. It was a short distance from the fire house to his house, which was probably going to become very relevant in the future if Stiles’s pyro habits continued as they were.

He felt his phone vibrate so he looked down to see Derek had replied.

_**Derek:** _

**Seeing you in that uniform turns me on.**

Stiles chuckled, blushing and biting his lip.

_**Stiles:** _

**I don’t look like a five year old or anything?**

_**Derek:** _

**Definitely not. Is it Friday yet?**

_**Stiles:** _

**Nope, still two more days.**

_**Derek:** _

**Just come over. Right now.**

Stiles thought about it; he could drop by the house and tell his mom that he was heading over to Scott’s, but he didn’t really feel like lying to his mom. Not today, at least.

_**Stiles:** _

**Can’t. I’ll see you Friday.**

_**Derek:** _

**Can’t wait.**

The first thing Stiles did when he got home was bury his face in his bed to try and hide the immense smile that just wouldn’t go away.

΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅

“Well,” Mr. Harris leaned back in his chair at the front of the class. “Some of you actually managed to not bore me today.” He sounded surprised, but he still looked unimpressed. His elephant seal snorted, growling a little at a familiar lion cub that was running around too close to it.

The bell rang to signal the end of class and everyone got up at once – after an entire hour of presentations on their (mostly failed) experiments, no one wanted to be in that classroom for longer than they had to.

Isaac was making his way to his next class when he felt someone nudge up against him. “Hey,” Scott smiled and Isaac couldn’t fight the smile that spread upon his own lips, “Did you hear about Lydia’s party tonight?”

Isaac instantly looked down at his feet. Scout nuzzled his leg consolingly, feeling Isaac’s sadness and anxiety through their bond. Isaac _had_ heard about the party, but he wasn’t going. He never went to any of Lydia’s parties – or, well, _any_ party, for that matter.

His dad didn’t like him staying out passed his curfew. No exceptions.

“Yeah, I can’t go though.” Isaac replied, and he hoped Scott would leave it at that.

“Oh,” Scott said quietly, and Isaac looked over to see the disappointment flicker across Scott’s features. He looked back down at his feet, closing his eyes and wishing things could be different. He wished he could go to the party with Scott. He wished his father could just… _love_ him. Stop hitting him. Stop tormenting him. Stop _hating_ Isaac.

But Isaac couldn’t dwell on wishes and dreams because they wouldn’t get him anywhere.

Instead he plastered a smile on his face and he bumped Scott’s shoulder with his own. “Why? Are you going?”

Scott shrugged, smiling warmly at Isaac. “Stiles isn’t even going, so I don’t know.”

Isaac frowned. “Why isn’t Stiles going?” Rumour was that Stiles had been in _love_ with Lydia since the first grade; and the rumour was around for good reason. Anytime Isaac saw Stiles he was usually fawning all over her.

Scott shrugged again, frowning a little. “He didn’t really say.” Scott paused, placing a hand on Isaac’s shoulder. “So hey,” Scott started, and Isaac could see a faint blush spreading across Scott’s cheeks, “If you’re free sometime this weekend, maybe we could hang out, or something?”

Isaac tilted his head, trying to figure out what Scott _meant_. Hang out as friends or as… something more than that? Either way, of course he wanted to spend more time with Scott. “Yeah.” Isaac answered, smiling despite himself. “I mean, if my dad says I can, totally.”

Scott’s shoulders relaxed and Copper barked happily, the sound reminding both of them that they were still standing in the hallway of school and late for the their next classes. “Awesome! Text me and let me know, okay?”

“Alright,” Isaac promised and patted Scout, whose tail was wagging so hard against Isaac’s leg, Isaac was sure it was going to bruise.

΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅

_6:47 pm_

Derek glanced at the clock hanging on his living room wall for the sixth time in the past two minutes.

Lobo was resting on the couch, his head resting lazily in his paws as he watched Derek watching the clock. The wolf wore a look of amusement – if that’s even _possible_ – and Derek knew he was being ridiculous, but he was anxious. And _excited_.

Stiles was supposed to be there by now. He’d texted Derek about half an hour ago, saying that he’d be at Derek’s apartment by quarter to seven.

Stiles was two minutes late.

Derek stood from his armchair and grabbed his phone off the end table, checking to see if Stiles had texted him. He hadn’t.

Derek sighed, tossing the phone back down, and paced the length of the apartment a few times before decidedly stopping himself and reminding himself that Stiles would get there when he got there. And though the seconds seemed to pass by like hours, Derek needed to distract himself.

He retrieved his laptop from his bedroom and carried it back to the living room. He opened it up and checked his e-mails, finding absolutely nothing interesting or important. He sighed, slamming the laptop shut and setting it down next to his phone.

Just as he was about to switch on the television there was a knock at the door.

Lobo was up before Derek even realized what was happening. The wolf padded over to the door, scratching at it and looking over at Derek with an expectant gaze.

Derek rolled his eyes and crossed the room to open his front door, and the moment he did a fox came bounding into the room. “Please, come in Todd, make yourself at home.” Derek snorted, raising an eyebrow at the fox before turning to see Stiles standing there in the hallway, looking a little timid and uncertain. “Would you like to come in before Lobo’s tail detaches itself from his body?”

Stiles tilted his head and looked down at the wolf, chuckling when he saw how intensely his tail was whipping back and forth. “Aww I missed you too buddy.” He crouched down, looking directly into Lobo’s eyes. “When Derek’s asleep tonight you and I can run away together, okay?”

“Oh really?” Derek asked and Stiles stood back up, grinning slyly. “Maybe I’ll just have to stay up all night.”

Stiles’s smile quickly melted into a smirk. “If you stay _up_ all night, you should probably see a doctor or something. But I’m sure if I do my job right you won’t last longer than four hours. You won’t even last four _minutes_.”

Derek groaned, linking his fingers through Stiles’s jean’s belt loops and tugging him into the apartment. “You can’t say shit like that.” Derek warned, leaning down to place an open mouthed kiss to Stiles’s neck. Stiles melted into Derek, dropping his bag on the floor and kicking the door closed before grabbing Derek’s chin and guiding his face back up to Stiles’s.

"Why not?" Stiles asked, his tone of voice innocent but there was a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Derek took a step forward, pressing Stiles up against the front door of the apartment with his body. He could feel Stiles's warmth emanating from his body like a furnace, and his breath hot on his mouth. "Because at this rate I'll never let you leave this apartment ever again."

Stiles smirked. "I'm totally on board with that."

Derek licked his lips and Stiles's eyes watched the movement, gaze lingering. "Stiles," Derek said but Stiles wasn't really listening any more. "Have you had dinner yet?" Stiles made a low humming sound that Derek wasn't sure was even a real answer. "Stiles?"

Stiles didn't look away from Derek's lips. "Yeah, have you?"

"No," Derek replied, but food wasn't exactly at the forefront of his mind at the moment; Stiles's heated gaze was doing all sorts of things to him. He found himself leaning closer to Stiles, their noses almost touching. "Maybe we should..." Derek trailed off, motioning towards the living room with a nod of his head.

Stiles's lips brushed against Derek's, hovering there and driving Derek slowly to insanity. His hands snaked around Stiles's waist and pulled him into him, sealing their lips together in a warm kiss.

Without breaking the kiss Derek clumsily led them towards the couch, and once there he sat down, pulling Stiles on top of him. Stiles ground down against Derek's crotch, eliciting a soft groan from him. Derek could feel electricity surging through him every time Stiles's lips and fingertips pressed against his skin.

"Bedroom," Stiles breathed between kisses and Derek didn't even hesitate. He stood from the couch lifting Stiles with him; Stiles's legs wrapped around Derek's hips and his arms were draped over his shoulders. He carried Stiles all the way down the hall and through his bedroom door, and then slowly lowered Stiles onto the bed. "Lube and condoms?" Stiles asked and Derek paused.

He hadn't known Stiles for very long, and usually he didn't hop into bed with people until they'd at least been on three dates and he felt ready. But he trusted Stiles. There was some deeper connection he couldn't quite explain, and if Stiles wanted this then Derek was ready.

He grabbed the condoms he kept in the drawer of his bedside table and retrieved the bottle of lube from his bathroom. By the time he got back Stiles already had his pants and shirt off, and he was lounging across the bed with a comically seductive expression on his face.

"My body is ready," Stiles wiggled his eyebrows and Derek let out an abrupt chuckle. He peered over to the corner of the room to where Lobo's bed was and saw that both familiars were lying down there, side by side and curled into one another. They were cuddled so close that they were touching, and Derek could feel the sparks of energy through the bond that he and the wolf shared.

Derek leaned over and pressed his lips against Stiles's in a long, languid kiss. Slowly he reached down and slipped his shirt over his head, discarding it on the floor before pulling off his jeans as well. Stiles reached a hand upwards, his eyes drinking in every inch of Derek's body.

Derek let Stiles lead him onto the bed, and once Stiles's back hit the bed he pulled Derek over top of him.

They started slow at first, tasting each other's lips and exposed skin, scraping teeth against chin and neck and pressing fingertips into each curve and contour. Derek wanted to explore every inch of Stiles, and they had _all_ night.

But soon touching wasn't _enough_. Derek wanted more, and Stiles's dick was hard where it rubbed against Derek's thigh. Derek ventured a hand downwards, experimentally stroking Stiles's length over the fabric of his boxers. Stiles's eyes closed and he moaned out a note of pleasure, and his fingers dug into Derek's back.

When Stiles's eyes slid open he looked up at Derek and saw the hesitance there; the wordless question. Stiles bit at his lower lip and reached his own hand down, palming at Derek's dick. "Come on Der," Stiles breathed and Derek shuddered. He slipped his hand underneath the waistband of Stiles's boxers and stroked at Stiles's dick, feeling precome beading at the tip and using that as lubricant.

He tugged at Stiles's boxers until Stiles took the hint and slid them off, exposing him entirely. Derek took a moment to just look at Stiles. Really _look_. And he was the most beautiful creature Derek had ever seen.

He leaned over and kissed Stiles, slowly sliding his finger around Stiles's ass hole and finally slipping it inside of him. Stiles was tight - Derek idly wondered if Stiles had ever actually done this before, but slowly Stiles's inner walls began to relax. Derek slipped another finger inside, and then another, and only stopped when Stiles's hand suddenly grabbed hold of Derek's wrist to halt him.

"Just _fuck me_ _already_ ," Stiles rasped and Derek's dick twitched. Derek kicked off his boxer-briefs and reached for the condom, ripping open the foil and sliding the rubber over his cock. Stiles watched with almost black eyes, his pupils dilated with lust and _need_.

Derek lubed up his dick and applied an extra amount to Stiles's hole before finally he pushed in.

Stiles felt _amazing_.

He was warm and tight and felt _so fucking good_ , Derek almost came right there. But he held himself together because he wanted it to last. He bottomed out and waited a moment until Stiles's hand squeezed Derek's ass to start moving. He rocked in and out slowly at first; that's all he could handle.

The friction and warmth around his dick was pushing him closer to the edge with each thrust.

Stiles moaned and twitched, and he reached down and began jerking himself off. Derek could sense Stiles was close too; he was getting tighter and his eyes were closed, and his lips were red and swollen from being bitten so hard.

The moment Stiles came, his cum splattering his own stomach, Derek followed immediately after; his toes curling under and spikes of pleasure electrifying his body. Collectively their soft moans filled the hot air around them, and together they came down from the high.

Derek pulled out after a moment, pulling off the condom and tying it off before tossing it into the wastebasket by his bed. He stood, his legs still a little shaky, and made his way to the bathroom to grab a towel which he carried back to Stiles to clean him off.

Once he was clean, Stiles reached up and grabbed at both sides of Derek's face with his hands, pulling him in for a deep, wet kiss. "Best sleepover _ever_." Stiles said, his voice a little hazy. Derek smirked, nodding his agreement.

He climbed back into the bed, crawling under the covers and pulling Stiles close. He nuzzled into the crook of Stiles's neck and slowly began drifting off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so Deaton's in the next chapter and I'm kinda blanking on what familiar he'd have? Maybe an animal that has healing characteristics/qualities? Or an animal usually associated with wisdom and knowledge? If any of you have any suggestions send them my way in the comments!! I'd be most grateful :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all of your wonderful suggestions for Deaton's familiar!! Unfortunately I could only pick one :( all of them were great, but the raven got more than one comment, as it had an ominous and magical heritage! Again, thanks to all who commented!!! You're all beautiful!

“Favourite dessert?” Isaac asked and Scott paused for a moment to think about it. Isaac watched the way Scott’s head tilted ever so slightly as he fell deep into thought; a small crease forming right between his eyebrows as he concentrated.

“Cheesecake.” Scott answered decidedly, and the distant focus melted away into a warm smile. “New York cheesecake, specifically.” He paused again and then quickly added, “With strawberries.” Isaac chuckled as Scott rumbled a low _mmm_ and licked his lips. “Stiles’s mom makes _the best_ strawberry cheesecake.”

Isaac smirked, sipping at his hot chocolate to distract himself from the way Scott’s rumble was affecting him. “You and Stiles seem…” Isaac trailed off, unsure if his commentary on their relationship would offend Scott or not.

Scott chuckled a little breathlessly, shaking his head. “You know what they say about best friends?” He asked and Isaac shook his head, sinking a little lower in his seat. Scott grinned. “It’s not real best-friendship if people don’t assume you’re together. Especially when both friends have the same taste in dudes.”

Isaac laughed and Scout beside him barked boisterously to exclaim his own amusement, which Copper echoed. Suddenly the two of them were having a barking war, their tails wagging with excitement the louder they got. Isaac and Scott were blushing, avoiding the angry looks from the people around them in the café, but no matter how much they pleaded for their familiars to settle down, they continued to bark.

Suddenly Laura appeared beside their table, a pinched smile on her face and a clearly agitated snow leopard, hackles raised, at her side. “I love you Isaac, I really do. You’re a model employee and you mostly keep to yourself even though others, like my little sister, and brother, spend more time texting than taking orders. And I appreciate that. But you need to find someplace else to stage this bark battle royale. I’m not saying you have to go home, but you can’t stay here.”

Isaac and Scott exchanged embarrassed looks, both muttering quiet apologies as they stood and made their exit, dragging their familiars with them.

“What is going on with you guys?” Scott asked once they were outside, crossing his arms firmly over his chest and fixing their familiars with a stern look. Scout whined, jogging over to Isaac where he hid behind his legs and nudged at Isaac’s hand.

Copper seemed to be a lot more standoffish, still barking and slamming his front paws down on the pavement as he stuck his back end high in the air. “I think he wants to play.” Isaac laughed and Scott let out an exasperated breath. “Do you want to go to the park or something?”

“Sure.” Scott smiled in that warm way that made Isaac’s heart stir in his chest, and the four of them began walking down the street towards a small park just a few blocks away. While they walked they continued to talk – the flow of conversation was easy and relaxed, and Isaac really liked how animated Scott got when he got started on a subject he was passionate about. Copper and Scout didn’t settle down the entire way, barking madly and chasing each other around Isaac and Scott in dizzying circles.

With the familiars’ excitement, Isaac could feel his own energy levels beginning to vibrate.

When they finally reached the park, the two dog familiars took off into the open field like bullets and Isaac and Scott followed closely behind. As Scout and Copper tumbled after each other, Isaac and Scott idled behind, bumping into each other clumsily, chuckling and blushing as they went.

They found a nice, lush patch of grass and Scott threw himself down on it, dragging Isaac with him. They laid on their backs staring up at the cloudless, deep blue sky. Their familiars rolled around in the nearby green – Isaac felt elated.

He reached out suddenly and grabbed Scott’s hand. The involuntariness of the action caught Isaac off-guard. He hadn’t meant to hold Scott’s hand, but the energy from his familiar had distracted him enough from his anxieties that he was beginning to shed his inhibitions.

To Isaac’s surprise, Scott didn’t hesitate in lacing their fingers together.

Isaac looked over at Scott and was met with the brightest smile he’d ever seen. He couldn’t muster up enough courage to say something, but the moment still felt right, and they lied there next to each other in a warm, comfortable silence for what seemed like an eternity.

Eventually they started bantering again and time passed by all at once. The sun began to set and in the orange glow they began making their way back to the café.

“I had a really great time today.” Scott said once they were standing outside in the café’s parking lot. “I’m glad we got to do this.”

Isaac smiled back at Scott. “Me too.” He gathered up his courage and Scout trotted over to him, leaning against his leg heavily. “We should… do this again sometime.” He wasn’t sure what _this_ exactly meant to Scott, but it meant a lot to him.

“Absolutely!” Scott exclaimed and Copper made a happy bark beside him in agreement. “I’m free basically whenever, except for school and when I work down at the clinic with Deaton. So, just give me a time and a place and I’ll be there.”

Isaac wanted to be able to say the same, that he could be at Scott’s side at a moment’s notice, but he couldn’t. Not with his dad’s tyranny over every single aspect of his life. The only way he’d gotten his dad to even agree to let him out of the house today was to lie to him and say that he was picking up an extra shift at the café.

“I’ll let you know?” Isaac asked, still a little unsure. Scott nodded, a goofy smile on his lips.

“Cool.” He said and then made his way over to his bike and side car. Copper immediately jumped in while Scott put on his helmet. “I’ll see you at school on Monday?” He asked, and Isaac nodded.

“Yeah. We can sit through another hour’s worth of Harris’s droning.” Isaac smirked and Scott chuckled.

As Scott mounted the bike he looked over at Isaac. He thrummed the engine to life before propping his bike up and reversing out of the parking space. He looked over at Isaac one last time. “At least I get to spend that hour with you.” Another blinding smile and then Scott was riding away.

Isaac’s heart did a little flutter in his chest, and he stayed outside just long enough to see Scott and Copper turn the corner and disappear. He wandered into the café, which was unusually slow, and walked directly up to the counter where Laura was leaning and thumbing through a magazine.

Before she even looked up she remarked, “You have a very silly grin on your face.”

Isaac blushed and tried to compose himself, but failed miserably. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He denied, but Laura obviously didn’t fall for it. She peered over the magazine at him, an unimpressed eyebrow quirked at him.

She didn’t say a word, but her expression was enough to communicate to him that she knew how full of bullshit he was.

Isaac sighed in defeat. “You know that guy I came in here with earlier?”

Laura set aside the magazine and leaned on the counter, tilting her head curiously. “The cutie with a crooked jaw and irresistible dimples?” Isaac blushed again, but he nodded. She smirked. “Yeah, I saw him. I saw you two being all cute together over there.”

Isaac snorted. “Yeah, well, I go to school with him. This was kind of the first time hanging out outside of school.” He paused, not sure if he should say more. He did anyways. “It was nice.” He thought back to the feel of Scott’s fingers interlocked with his own, and he sighed.

Laura, sensing that Isaac’s tone had grown serious and distant, decided that this was the perfect moment to poke fun at him. “Nice, huh? You guys make out under the bleachers?”

Isaac almost choked on his own breath. “What? No! Nothing like that!”

Laura smirked. “Then why are you blushing so hard?”

Isaac groaned and hid his face behind his hands. Scout sneezed and then barked at Laura, which warranted a grumble out of her familiar. “Because this is totally embarrassing and I’m leaving now. Goodbye.” Isaac pushed away from the counter and stalked out of the café with Laura’s cackling chasing after him.

΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅

It was two o’clock, Saturday, by the time Stiles managed to detach himself from Derek and head back to his house where his mother was waiting for him. Derek didn’t make leaving easy – he sprawled himself on the couch, wearing nothing but his boxers – but Stiles knew that if he didn’t go home his father would probably send a squad of officers after him.

When he did slip into the house he found his mother perched at the kitchen table, sipping tea while her fawn familiar lazed around. He tried to sneak passed her, but that failed almost immediately after he set foot in the house.

“Stiles?" His mom called after him, and he internally cringed but skidded to a halt in the hallway. "Come here, please." He struggled for a moment more before hanging his head and slowly returning to his mother where she sat in the kitchen sipping her tea.

"Yeah, what's up? I was just gonna go start on my English assignment." He drummed his fingers against the doorframe impatiently under the impenetrable gaze of his mother as she scrutinized him. She didn't look entirely convinced - though Stiles couldn't understand what had given him away.

Suddenly she stood from where she sat and crossed over to where he was leaning, and then knelt down beside Todd. Todd yipped with excitement, jumping up into his mother's arms without warning and nuzzling her with his snout. For a moment she examined Todd, pulling at his paws playfully and cradling him in her arms. Rae, his mother’s timid familiar, walked over and nudged Todd gently, which Todd attempted to fend off by placing a paw on her nose and trying to squirm away.

"What's this?" His mother asked, her tone curiously worried. Stiles frowned, peering down to where her hand rested atop a white patch of fur on Todd's shoulder. "Going grey already, pup?" Todd nibbled at her fingers, finally twisting enough to escape her clutches and fall down to the floor. To celebrate his new found freedom he bounded around the kitchen, hopping up onto the kitchen table's chairs as he sprang all over.

Stiles stared at the splotch of white fur, an uneasy pit growing in his stomach. "What _is_ that?" He cut Todd off and lunged for him, scooping up the energetic fox in his arms and restraining him there to get a closer look.

There was a silver patch of fur, albeit very small, beginning to sprout on Todd’s shoulder where red fur used to be. Rae walked over, nuzzling the spot in a concerned, maternal fashion.

“We need to get that looked at. I’ll make an appointment for you with Deaton tomorrow.” His mother said, patting Todd’s head gently before reaching out and resting her hand on her son’s shoulder. “Are you feeling okay sweet heart?”

Stiles set Todd down and the fox immediately bolted away, relishing in freedom after being contained in Stiles’s clutches. His mother’s familiar watched the fox, standing completely still and stoic as Todd raced through her lanky legs. Stiles checked in with himself – he felt pretty amazing actually. He’d had a great night with Derek, and an equally wonderful morning. The more he got to know Derek, the more he liked him.

Even now he missed Derek’s presence, even though they’d only parted ways a short while ago.

“I’m feeling good mom, like a million bucks.” Stiles said, and even though it was entirely truthful, his mom still looked unconvinced.

“Still, I’d rather be safe than sorry. We’ll set up an appointment and see what Deaton has to say about it.” His mom said and Stiles internally groaned. He didn’t mind Deaton, but he didn’t want to spend any of his free time on a weekend in the waiting room of his clinic. He let out a sigh and his mom rolled her eyes at him, a playful lilt in her lips. “Oh, poor Stiles.” She patted his cheek a few times condescendingly, teasing her son relentlessly.

“I promised Scott I would hang out with him tomorrow!” Stiles whined – and by Scott, he really meant Derek, but his mom definitely did not need to know that. His mom raised her eyebrow again, her maternal instincts likely alerting her to the lie that just crossed her son’s lips.

“Didn’t you just spend the night at his place?” She asked and Stiles froze for a moment, paralyzed with fear that she somehow already figured out that he was not where he said he was last night.

“Yeah,” He paused, and then composed himself, “well, I mean, yeah. I was with him last night. And this morning. But, he’s my best friend. I like spending time with him. Is that a crime?”

Stiles’s mom sighed. “Knowing the trouble you two get up to sometimes, it could be.”

Stiles groaned, shaking his head and slowly making his retreat towards the stairs. “You know what? I’ll just tell him I’m sick, I’m sure he’ll understand.”

“So you are sick.” His mother said, her tone dry. Stiles admitted defeat then.

“Sure, yes. I’m sick. I’ll go see Deaton tomorrow.” Agreeing was the quickest way to get his mom off his case. She watched him warily, her eyes narrowed in suspicion, but thankfully once he was out of the kitchen she didn’t persist.

He made it all the way up to the second floor before the second interrogation began, this time by his father who was enjoying his day off from work.

“How was Scott’s?” Stiles’s father asked, and though under normal circumstances it was an innocent enough question, Stiles was slightly paranoid that his parents knew all about Derek and their late night rendezvous. He turned on his heels and high-tailed it to the door, Todd leaping up onto his bed and shooting under the loose covers.

“It was great!” He slammed the door behind him and fell into his desk chair. He looked over to where Todd was hiding under the covers, only his nose poking out from underneath. A few seconds later there was a knock at his door and he groaned in response.

His father welcomed himself in, sitting down next to Todd on the bed and petting the lump that was the fox familiar. “Are you okay son? You seem a bit on edge.”

“I’m fine.” Stiles said, this time steadily. His father, the cop that he was, was also a natural-born lie detector. He could sense the hitch in Stiles’s heartbeat, if Stiles wasn’t careful about covering it up with a ton of bullshit and honey. “I’m just stressed about this English assignment that’s due on Tuesday.”

The lie remained undetected – it was a half-truth after all, Stiles hadn’t actually read the assigned chapters, and passing English was essential if he didn’t want the hell-spawn Menhennet as a repeat warden come next term.

His father frowned, letting out a small sigh of exasperation. His father’s familiar, Oscar the large, valiant stag, pushed the door open with his antlers and made his way over to Stiles’s father. He patted the creature’s head, fixing his gaze on Oscar before looking back over at his son. “Alright, well if you need any help you know where to find your mother and I.” There was a short pause; Stiles tried to keep a calm composure, but facing down his father was like trying to sit still after forgetting to take Adderall. Impossible, for Stiles.

“I should get started on it.” He tried to brush his father off as subtly as possible.

His dad’s eyes narrowed with a hint of skeptical suspicion. “Are you sure there’s nothing else?”

Todd felt Stiles’s anxious energy through their bond and suddenly began to spasm under the covers, biting at Stiles’s dad’s hand and kicking out with his paws. After squirming free from the blankets he started sprinting laps around the room, knocking over papers and lamps, and other assorted belongings.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Stiles said, turning in his chair to face his computer desk. His dad lingered only a few moments more before Todd barreled into him, just about knocking him over. He and Oscar took that as their cue to vacate the premises.

“Alright, well, dinner’s at seven.” He and his familiar made their way out and Stiles let out a sigh of relief. Todd instantly froze, panting and dropping his body onto the bed. Stiles reached over, running his fingers though the fox’s soft fur, hesitating on the white patch.

“What’d you do to yourself?” Stiles asked and Todd sneezed. Stiles shook his head, giving the fox a few more pats before redirecting his attention to his phone. He quickly shot Derek a message, using the same excuse he’d used on his father to explain why he couldn’t go over for more sexy times the next day.

Derek’s reply came an hour or so later.

**_Derek:_ **

**No worries. Something came up for me as well. Talk soon?**

Stiles set his phone aside, instantly intently curious about what Derek might be talking about. He smothered the instinct to interrogate him, knowing that their budding relationship may not be able to handle _all_ of Stiles’s insanity quite yet.

**_Stiles:_ **

**For sure! Talk to you later!**

΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅

Derek’s palms were sweating. Lobo’s ears were twitching.

The man that sat across from him in the small, humid office hadn’t spoken a single word since he’d welcomed him in five minutes ago. Derek had tried more than once to strike up a friendly conversation, but each time his efforts had failed and he’d slunk back into silence.

Derek had heard that Principal Argent was a hard ass, but he’d hoped that he’d be able to win him over with the famous (perhaps infamous) Hale charm. When that didn’t work he’d floundered, and now here they were.

Finally the older man let out a sigh, hunching forward in his chair to review the paper laid out on the desk in front of him.

Derek’s résumé.

“It says here you graduated with Honours. Is that true?” The man’s voice was gruff and he didn’t look entirely impressed.

In the corner of the room, a rat familiar scurried about, its beady eyes trained on Lobo.

Derek plastered the most pleasant smile he could muster onto his face and nodded. “Honours and I have a glowing reference from two of my professors that I TA’d for in my final years.” Derek wanted to list off other qualifications but he didn’t have any more experience. He never did co-op, and since he’d graduated he hadn’t even gotten a job yet as a supply teacher.

Principal Argent sat back in his chair, looking Derek over like he was an uninteresting insect stuck to the bottom of his shoe. “You have no other field experience?”

Derek took a deep breath to steady his nerves. “No sir, but I would appreciate any opportunity to gain experience in this field. It’s what I went to school for, it’s where I want to be, and I promise that if you give me a chance, I will not disappoint you.”

Argent looked somewhat pleased by Derek’s outburst – Derek’s voice may have been a bit louder and more direct than he’d intended – but the moment he displayed the emotion it was wiped out by the following frown.

“Without the proper experience we can’t offer you a permanent position at our school, but, if these references are as… glowing, as you say they are, then maybe we can put you on our short list of supplies.” He gathered up the papers on his desk and then motioned for Derek to stand.

Derek held out his hand, giving the principal a firm handshake. “Thank you for your time and consideration.”

Argent made a sort of scoffing sound in the back of his throat. “It was the least I could do. I know your mother, you know. I taught her years ago, when she was about your age and I wasn’t on the ass-end of fifty. Went from being an esteemed college professor to a high school principal.”

Derek didn’t know what to say now. The man had spoken no more than a handful of words to him thus far and his rat familiar was eating scraps of paper in the corner. All he wanted to do was get out of there as quickly and politely as possible.

“You used to teach my mom?” Derek asked, one eye on the door. Lobo was up and ready to leave too, but Argent was apparently in a chatty mood now that he wasn’t interviewing Derek.

“Oh yeah. Talia was one of my top students. Her and my daughter, Kate, were inseparable in college.” Argent reminisced. _Kate_? Derek had never heard of a Kate before, and if she’d been so close to his mother he was sure she would’ve mentioned her at least once or twice. “Talia was very, very bright, and she had so much potential. But people make decisions. I’m sure she’s very… comfortable, now.”

Derek bit his tongue.

He wasn’t going to ask the old man what exactly he meant by _comfortable_. He wasn’t going to look too closely at the condescending smirk that curled the old man’s face into a facetious expression of arrogance.

Lobo snorted his disapproval, unwarranted by Derek. Argent’s rat poked its nose out from under Derek’s chair, startling him.

“Have a nice day, Derek.” Argent snorted, dismissing him in the same cold demeanor he’d had up to this point. Derek stood slowly, hoping to not look too eager to be leaving. Lobo bounded towards the door without hesitation though, producing another unimpressed scowl from Argent.

Derek could’ve sworn the man’s rat was baring its teeth at him on his way out.

΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅

“When did you notice your familiar’s fur begin to change colour?” Doctor Deaton asked as he examined the patch on Todd. Stiles was petting his familiar, trying to ease the fox’s anxiety of being touched by another human. In this case doctors and other specialists were permitted to interact with both human and familiar, but Todd still didn’t like it. Stiles could feel the unease and uncomfortable tension through their bond.

“Yesterday. I got home from… a friend’s house.” Stiles answered, careful of how he worded things. His mother was in a seat next to the door, her familiar resting at her feet while an old magazine absorbed her attention.

Deaton raised an eyebrow. “I see. And what exactly were you and this _friend_ doing?”

Oh, you know, just making out and having sex.

“Playing board games.” Stiles lied. Todd looked up at him, clearly unimpressed by the blatant lie.

Over by the window a big, black raven cawed, sending a chill up through Stiles’s spine. Deaton’s eyes narrowed and he titled his head. For some strange reason, Stiles felt like Deaton was reading him, sensing the mistruth.

“Interesting.” Deaton’s eyebrow never fell from its curious peak, but he looked away from Stiles back to Todd. “There doesn’t seem anything to be the matter. You and your fox seem to be doing well enough.” He paused, grabbing a clipboard and thumbing through some papers before looking back up to meet Stiles’s eyes. “How’s the Adderall working for you? Are you having any other adverse effects?”

Stiles frowned. “Wait, do you think this is from the Adderall?”

Stiles’s mother looked up, frowning as well. “You said those pills were safe, Alan.”

Deaton set down the clipboard so that he could wave off Stiles’s mother’s concern. “They are, I promised you Claudia. Your son isn’t in any sort of danger. My questions are purely obligatory.”

“Well I’m doing fine.” Stiles grumbled.

“He’s doing much better in his classes. He has a few… behavioural issues, but he is his father’s son.” Claudia and Deaton laughed together at that, and Stiles did his best not to roll his eyes.

“That’s good to hear.” Deaton smiled, giving Todd a final once over. “You see, this sort of discolouration is quite rare. If there’s nothing in your physical environment causing the change – hormones, diet, and other factors – then its likely something psychological or emotional, both which are being modified by the Adderall. It’s completely harmless, but I’d keep an eye on it just in case. If it continues to grow, call me back and we can run a few more tests. Other than that you are good to go about your daily life with a clean bill of health.”

Stiles lifted Todd off the examination table and hurried out, eager to be away from both Deaton and his strange bird’s penetrating gaze.

They’d known he was lying, but Deaton hadn’t said anything. Still, it was wise to get his mother away from him as soon as possible.

“Thanks Alan, we appreciate you taking the time to check him.” Stiles’s mom was taking her dear, sweet time, giving the doctor a warm smile before nudging Rae to her feet.

“My pleasure. Feel free to call any time with any concerns or questions. It’s always nice seeing you Claudia. Tell John we’re overdue for a round at the range!” Deaton said as he escorted them out of the room into the clinic’s main lobby.

“Will do! Have a good day.” She smiled and Stiles waved a little before hightailing it to the exit. He got to his mom’s car and waited impatiently, tapping on the window until she unlocked it for him. Todd jumped in first while Claudia helped Rae into the back.

The drive back to the house was relatively quiet; Stiles’s mom liked to listen to the radio, and Stiles was preoccupied with texting Derek. He sent him a message about how Todd’s fur was going white, but Derek hadn’t replied yet.

By the time they got home and Todd had raced Stiles up to his bedroom, Stiles had just about given up on Derek entirely. He sat down in his desk chair and booted up his computer. The moment Skype popped up, Derek’s name flashed across the screen as an incoming call. He could feel his heart beating rapidly all the way down to his toes.

He waited a few rings before picking up.

“Hello there handsome.” Stiles greeted Derek, who was looking positively _attractive_ in a light blue button down. “What are you all fancy for?”

Derek half-smirked, looking down at himself like he wasn’t aware of what he was wearing and how gorgeous he was in it. “Oh this? It’s nothing. Just a shirt.” Derek was playing coy. Stiles was _totally_ into that.

“Just a shirt, huh?” Stiles asked, just to clarify, and Derek chuckled.

“Just a shirt, for just an interview.” Derek answered, and it took a few seconds for Stiles to process that.

“An interview! That’s awesome!” He paused, cocking an eyebrow. “Wait, does that mean I don’t get to see you in that uniform from the coffee house anymore?”

Derek scoffed, his cheeks flaring red. “Yes. We can burn it, and then bury the ashes in the deepest, darkest hole. Especially the fucking hat.”

Stiles’s grin grew wide. “Hey, I love the fucking hat. Makes the whole uniform.” Derek rolled his eyes. “You gotta keep it.”

“Whatever.” Derek retorted. He may not agree with Stiles now, but he’d wear him down eventually. “Anyways, let me see Todd.” Stiles was about to withhold his familiar but Todd was on the desk the moment his name left Derek’s lips, shoving his chest into the camera on Stiles’s laptop. “Holy shit, I thought you were screwing around with me.”

“Nope. White patch is one hundred percent authentic. Doc doesn’t know why it’s there.” Stiles figured it had something to do with his hormones, but he wasn’t entirely convinced it wasn’t something else.

“I’ve never seen that before. Are you guys okay?” Derek asked, unmasked concern in his voice. It made Stiles’s stomach twist and his heart flip.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re good.” Stiles wanted to change the subject before the blush in his cheeks became visible on the camera. “How about your interview? Where’s it at?”

“Just a place. Don’t worry about it. I probably didn’t get the job. The guy who interviewed me was a complete asshole.” Derek looked disappointed, so Stiles didn’t press. Instead he changed the subject.

They chatted for an hour or so, and then Derek had to sign off for dinner.

Later that night Stiles’s father received a call from the station. Stiles, being the curious (nosy) person that he was, lingered long enough in the hallway to overhear that they’d found another body missing its familiar counterpart.


	8. Chapter 8

Stiles was tempted to follow his father out to the crime scene, but decided against the notion when his mom intercepted him at the front door. Todd tried to dart underneath Rae, but Stiles directed his familiar to stop and return to him through their bond, which the fox did with a snort of complaint.

“It’s almost ten o’clock, dear, where do you think you’re going?” She asked, her head poised to one side which her familiar mirrored. For some reason, Stiles had a harder time lying to Rae’s questioning eyes than his mother’s.

“I was-,” He began, but his mother raised an eyebrow to stop the lie before it happened. Stiles sighed, Todd sighed, and his mother and Rae wore smug looks of satisfaction.

Stiles huffed, turning and making his way back upstairs without another word, Todd shooting up the stairs next to him. “Goodnight sweetie.” His mom said to his retreating back.

“Goodnight.” Stiles muttered back, sulking as he closed his bedroom door behind him and went directly to his computer. He found Scott’s name in his contacts and called, hoping his friend would still be awake.

The video crackled to life when Scott finally answered. “Dude, I was sleeping.” Scott whined, and Stiles could tell he wasn’t lying by the state of his disheveled hair and drooping eyes.

Stiles would have apologized, but he wasn’t sorry, so he skipped formalities and went straight down to business. “My dad just got called in on another homicide.”

Stiles waited for the reaction of shock and for Scott’s array of intrigued questioning, but Scott only groaned with annoyance.

“Why?” Scott moaned, slamming his head down on his desk. “Stiles, why?”

Stiles frowned. “Dude.”

Scott grumbled once more, and raised his head to look at Stiles. “We have school in the morning.”

Stiles scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “That’s never stopped us before.” Scott still looked both uncomfortable and unconvinced with the prospect of sneaking out. “Come on, man! I gotta know what happened! Otherwise it’ll bug me all night, then I won’t get any sleep, and I’ll be a zombie in class tomorrow.”

Scott pouted. “That really sounds like a _you_ kind of problem.”

Stiles grumbled, giving Scott a disapproving glower. “Look, if you do this for me, I won’t revoke our best-friendship.” Stiles supplied and Scott rolled his eyes. “And I’ll never ask you to sneak out to a crime scene with me ever again.” A blatant lie, but even the smallest chance that the constant pestering would stop had sweet, naïve Scott reconsidering.

“You promise?” Scott asked, and Stiles only felt a little bad for lying.

“Promise.” Stiles nodded. Scott took a moment longer to think about it, but finally relented.

“Alright, where am I meeting you?” Stiles gave him the address and then began preparations for the jail break. He tucked his pillows under his comforter, fluffing them up until they looked like a plump body. He scooped Todd up and slipped out his bedroom window, onto his roof. From there it was easy to climb down the lattice in the back, and catch Todd when he leapt down from the roof.

Instead of taking his jeep, he wrangled his old bike from the garage, walking it to the end of the road before mounting it. His fox sat in the basket on the front of the bike, his head held high against the wind as they rode towards their destination.

΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅

“This was a terrible idea. We’re never going to get close enough to see anything.” Scott whisper-growled at Stiles.

They met up at the park where there were at least five cops cars parked, their red and blue lights flashing against the fog that had settled over the landscape. Stiles’s father was gathered with the rest of the officers nearby, surrounding a blocked off section of the park. A line of yellow tape marked the murder site, and Stiles and Scott were nowhere near enough to see anything remotely interesting.

“We just gotta get closer.” Stiles said, shuffling along the treeline and dragging Scott with him. Todd was bounding around in the trees, nipping at fireflies and rolling around in the underbrush. Copper was less enthusiastic, staying close to Scott and wagging his tail nervously.

“What if they catch us? My mom said that one more ride home in a cruiser meant a month’s worth of grounding.” Scott whined and Copper echoed his sentiments with a low whimper. Stiles shushed them both and continued onwards.

They reached the edge of where the police were gathered. At this distance, Stiles could see a body on the ground just beyond the yellow tape. Scott and Copper both whined a low hum. Todd stopped playing around and crouched low to the ground behind Stiles, giving him a look of curiosity.

Stiles had never actually seen a dead body. He’d seen pictures, sure, when he snuck an illegal look at his dad’s crime scene photos in his home office. But never in the cold, lifeless flesh.

“We should just go home.” Scott pleaded, and it was hard to resist both his and Copper’s perfected puppy dog pout, but Stiles had some strange kind of morbid curiosity. He felt compelled to get just _a little bit closer_. He needed to see who it was.

They watched from the cover of the tree line as the cops milled about. Honestly, it was a little boring. It only started to get interesting when the coroner showed up, because that’s when they moved the body. After a few more crime scene pictures, the coroner got to work on examining the body. Once she was finished with that, they lifted the body onto a gurney.

As they lifted it, Stiles caught a glimpse of her face.

Mrs. Menhennet’s cold, slackened face.

Suddenly his insatiable curiosity transformed into nausea. He fought the urge to heave – the cops were close enough that they’d hear him puking his guts out. He grabbed Scott’s arms and pulled him away. Scott didn’t need any extra motivation – the moment Stiles gave the signal to back away he’d turned tail and ran with Copper right beside him.

Todd jumped up into Stiles’s arms, his entire body quivering in reaction to Stiles’s sudden change in energy. He carried the fox with him as he ran alongside Scott and his familiar. In hindsight, running wasn’t exactly the smartest course of action during a stealth mission. The sound of their retreat alerted a nearby officer, but they were already long gone by the time the cop summoned enough courage and backup to investigate the noise.

When they reached the side of the road where they’d left their bikes, they took a moment to breath.

The image of Menhennet’s face infested every thought Stiles had. He tried to block it out, think of something else, anything, but it refused to fade away.

“We are never doing that again.” Scott said, and Stiles was inclined to agree.

“Did you-,” Stiles began, but he couldn’t finish the thought. _See the body_? _See Menhennet lying there, pale and distorted like a terrible, terrible dream_?

Scott frowned. “Did I what?”

“See who it was.” Stiles managed to ask, though there was still a knot in his stomach and throat.

Scott shrugged. “No, not really. To be perfectly honest I didn’t really see anything. I stayed in the trees, didn’t really want to see.”

Stiles bit at his lip. Should he tell Scott about Menhennet? He’d find out in the papers tomorrow, if Stiles didn’t tell him now.

“It was,” Stiles began but the word got caught up in his throat, choking out a fresh lie, “too crowded by the cops to see anything. I guess we’ll just have to wait until it gets covered on the news.”

Scott and Stiles grabbed their respective bikes and began walking them down the road. Todd took his rightful place inside the basket, and Copper strode alongside Scott. They walked on in relative silence until they reached the end of the street.

“Hey, Stiles?” Scott asked once they turned the corner. “You know Isaac? From school?”

Stiles gave his friend a deadpan look. “The blond kid? Works at The Hale Café? The one you’ve admired from afar since grade nine?” Scott nodded, and even in the low light of the night Stiles could see a faint blush on his best friend’s cheeks. “What about him?” He asked, though he already knew.

“I think I… like him. Like, more than just friends kind of like him.” Scott replied, and Stiles feigned shock and apprehension.

“What? I never would have guessed it!” He teased, and Scott picked up on the sardonic tone. His eyes narrowed at Stiles.

“Ha-ha.” He sighed, rubbing a hand through his mop of hair. “We hung out yesterday, and I think he likes me too. He let me hold his hand.” Stiles had actually always pictured his best friend with someone like Isaac – quiet and sweet. Between the two of them they’d probably have a sweetness overload.

“You only _think_ he does?” Stiles asked and Todd chirped. “If you’re holding his hand, then he’s into you. No thinking necessary.” Todd’s tail bushed out in agreement.

“Yeah, but he hasn’t really said anything. I get the feeling he’s holding back for some reason.” Scott said, his voice dropping to a whisper. Stiles pursed his lips and thought about it.

“Well, has he come out?” Stiles asked. First and foremost there was always a rule about hooking up with guys who were comfortable with their sexuality or not. Stiles hadn’t heard anything about Isaac in terms of being open about his sexual preference, but not everyone shared that part of themselves. If they weren’t comfortable being in their own skin, then Stiles didn’t see the point in even trying.

Scott blinked. “I have no idea. I don’t think he’s ever really dated anyone in high school.”

Stiles sighed. “That’s where you should start then. For him to like you, he’s gotta know what turns him on. Lady parts or man bits. Or maybe he’s asexual. I don’t know.” Stiles let Scott stew with that as they walked on in silence. To distract himself from what he’d just seen, Stiles’s mind wandered to Derek and he contemplated telling Scott about him or not. He knew what his best friend would say about it.

“You’re right,” Scott conceded, “I’ll ask Erica about it.” Stiles patted Scott on the back.

“Atta boy,” he praised Scott and Copper barked happily, the sharp sound bouncing in the air. The echo roused nearby dog familiars, and soon the night was filled by the echoes of dogs barking. “ _Great_.” Stiles shook his head. “Exactly what we needed, since we’re on a stealth mission.”

Scott patted Copper and the familiar’s tongue lolled out happily from the side of his mouth.

They reached the end of the street and parted ways.

Stiles didn’t tell him about Menhennet. He didn’t think about Menhennet until he’d snuck back into his house and rolled himself up in his warm, comforting covers. Todd curled up beside him, licking his face and whimpering lowly every now and then.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get Menhennet out of his head. When he eventually fell asleep, Menhennet’s cold eyes fueled a chain of nightmares through Stiles’s restless night.

΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅

Derek awakened before light began to peek through his blinds.

He groaned and grumbled, arguing with his alarm until it silenced itself. But then it started going off again. And _again_.

Blindly he fumbled for his phone on the nightstand. He hit it off the table and growled. Peeking an eye open he stretched his arm to the floor and snatched it up. Lobo was still fast asleep in his bed in the corner, occasionally snoring.

Derek blinked blearily a few times to see that the time was _4:45 AM_. He hadn’t set his alarm this early. No one in their right mind would set an alarm that early. Laura needed him in the café for nine, so he still had _hours_ of sleep time left.

But it wasn’t his alarm going off. Someone was calling him. An unknown number.

He sat up stiffly, rubbing at his eyes and clearing his throat. He answered the call.

“He-…” His voice cracked, he cleared it once more. “Hello?”

“Hi, this is Ms. Martin, I’m a counselor for Beacon Hills high school. I’m looking for Derek Hale?” The woman’s voice was just as groggy as Derek’s, and the tone of her voice was strained.

“That’s me,” Derek replied. His brain was still stuck on the fact that it wasn’t even five in the morning yet, so most of what she was saying hadn’t registered yet.

“I am so sorry for calling at such an ungodly hour, but Mr. Argent was adamant that I call you immediately.” She paused, waiting for a response from Derek.

His sleep clouded brain finally caught up, and his heart began to hammer excitedly. Beacon Hills high school. Mr. Argent. This was the call he’d been hoping for. “No, no, it’s fine. What can I do for you and Mr. Argent?” Lobo startled awake, his ears perked up on high alert. He stirred from his bed and joined Derek on his, plopping himself half on top of Derek as he lied down next to him.

There was a slight pause. She cleared her throat. Derek could’ve sworn her heard a slight sniffle. “We just received news that one of our teachers, Mrs. Menhennet, passed away last night.” Now Derek was sure he recognized the voice of someone who was trying to hold back a wave of emotion.

“Oh, I am so sorry. My condolences,” he hated that he sounded so scripted, but he didn’t know what to say in these sorts of situations. It didn’t matter though, because Ms. Martin took a deep breath and steadied herself.

“Thank you, she was such a lovely woman.” Ms. Martin said, sniffling once more. “Now, Mr. Argent was hoping you would come in and substitute for her. Unfortunately we don’t have her lesson plans, so you’ll have to improvise. I’m sure you can just put on a movie for the classes today. I’ll sign one out for you and set it up in the classroom.” She paused. “I am so sorry, you haven’t even agreed to come in today. I’m getting ahead of myself.”

“I will definitely come in.” Derek was quick to reassure her. “Sorry I haven’t said anything, I’m just trying to process everything.”

“Mr. Argent will be very happy to hear that.” She said, and she sounded relieved. “School starts at eight thirty, but you should be here for seven if you can. I can give you a tour of the school and show you the classroom. I know it’s not much of an orientation.” She deflated a little as she trailed off.

“It’s more than enough.” Derek said. On the one hand he was ecstatic – he’d wanted a teaching job, and here it was, falling right into his lap. On the other hand he hated the fact that it took someone dying to put it there. “I’ll be there at seven.”

“Thanks Derek,” she paused, correcting herself, “Mr. Hale. We really appreciate you coming in on such short notice. You can sign in at the main office, and one of the receptionists there will page me to pick you up.”

“Thanks, I’ll see you then.” He replied, and the call ended. He set his alarm for quarter to six. He tried to fall back asleep, but the excitement hadn’t faded and Lobo kept shifting. He decided to go for a morning run to burn off some of his anxiety.

΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅

“ _Isaac_!” Isaac’s father _roared_. His familiar, Grizzly bear Bruce, slammed into Isaac’s bedroom door. Isaac sat straight up in his bed, fear shooting through his veins. The bear stomped its way into his room, looming over the foot of his bed. It snarled and snorted at him, its eyes bloodshot and rabid.

Scout growled, taking up a protective position over Isaac’s legs. Isaac reached out, his hand shaking, to calm his familiar. Bruce bellowed, shaking the room and Isaac’s eardrums, making the boy flinch and Scout shake. The golden retriever didn’t waver though, he wanted to protect Isaac.

“Get your ass down here, _now_!” His father ordered. Reluctantly Isaac obeyed. The bear continued to snarl at him as he slipped out of his bed and pressed his back against the wall to side step the vicious familiar. When Scout tried to follow, the bear swiped at him, throwing him against the wall.

Scout crumpled to the floor. Isaac felt shooting pain through their bond, a headache instantly impairing him. He fell to Scout’s side, tears stinging at his eyes.

Bruce snorted once more before taking his leave.

Scout whimpered, his entire body shaking with a mixture of pain and fear. Isaac clutched his familiar close to him, stroking his fur to soothe him.

“If I don’t see you down here in the next _second_ , you’ll regret it!” Isaac’s father called up, the threat clear in his voice. Scout tried to stand and a sharp pain pinched through the bond. Isaac patted his familiar, whispering softly.

“Don’t move Scout,” Isaac pleaded, but his familiar tried to struggle to his feet once more. When they heard footsteps against the padded stairs, the attempts grew more frantic.

Isaac scooped Scout into his arms and carried him to the closet, setting him down on a makeshift bed from dirty clothes and a blanket. He closed the closet doors and faced his bedroom door.

His father appeared in the doorway, a mean look in his eyes. His shoulders hunched forward and his hands were balled into fists at his side. He didn’t say a word, but Isaac knew what was coming.

He closed his eyes and waited.

His father’s fist connected with the side of his head, and he fell to the ground. After that his mind went blank as a mechanism to endure the pain. His dad got more vocal as he grew angrier with his son’s lack of response. Called him useless and pathetic. A mistake. Isaac blocked that all out too.

When it was all over – his father panting, knuckles a bloody mess – he left his son in the darkness.

He lied there for what seemed like hours. The emptiness he’d crawled into began to recede, and in its place came pounding pain. Scout poked his nose out of the closet, whimpering as he dragged himself across the floor to lie beside Isaac.

΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅

“Hey, have you guys seen Isaac?” Scott asked as he took up a chair next to Erica and Boyd. The two of them exchanged glances. Scott felt like there was something he was missing. “Why are you looking at each other like that?”

Harley jumped up on Erica’s desk, the cheetah familiar fixing Scott with a meaningful stare. Kunu sneezed and scratched his tummy.

“He misses school sometimes…” Boyd trailed off. Scott didn’t want to press them if they didn’t feel comfortable telling him the reason, but he worried about Isaac.

“It’s a… health thing.” Erica supplied, fueling Scott’s worry.

“Health thing? Is he okay?” Scott didn’t want to sound overbearing, but he was a little distressed by the idea that Isaac was too sick to come to school.

Erica’s lips twisted into a pout. Harley meowed angrily, her tail fluffing up twice its original size. “He’s fine. He’ll tell you if he wants to, okay?”

Scott shrank back, worried that he’d offended Erica somehow. Boyd gave him a sympathetic look before turning in his seat to face the front of the classroom. Feeling a little unwanted, Scott decided to find a seat elsewhere, beside Stiles.

Todd seemed to be extra feisty. He kept nibbling on Stiles’s foot until the boy pulled his leg away with a yelp, and then the fox would run around in circles under the desk. Stiles seemed to be as anxious, biting relentlessly at his fingertips, his leg jiggling up and down. He looked like hell, like he hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before.

“What?” He asked irritably when he caught Scott staring at him. Scott deflated. Everyone was in a sour mood today, it seemed.

“Sorry. You just look a little wired.” Scott apologized and turned to the only one he could count on not to bite his head off for simply existing.

His familiar sat by his leg, a sad expression set in his deep brown eyes. Scott ran his fingers through the Burmese’s long, soft hair. Copper rested his head on Scott’s desk, gently nuzzling into Scott’s palm.

Stiles leaned over.

“Look man, I wasn’t going to say anything because… last night was pretty fucked up.” His voice was a low whisper. Scott had to lean over even further and strain to listen to what Stiles was saying. “I saw who it was.” Stiles paused. Scott frowned. “Mrs. Menhennet.”

Scott didn’t realize what Stiles was saying at first, so it took a moment before he reacted.

“ _What_?” He hissed and Stiles kept his eyes glued to the front of the room. He refused to even look at Scott.

“It was her. She’s…” Stiles seemed to get choked up. Scott sat back in his chair, a wave of numbness washing over him. He was in a state of shock. He didn’t break away from it until Harris entered the room and commanded the students’ attention.

As soon as the bell rang to signal the beginning of the school day, announcements followed. Principal Argent’s voice boomed loud over the speaker.

“Students, it is my sincerest regret that I must inform you of the passing of one of our faculty members. Last night Catherine Menhennet passed away.” Argent’s words confirmed what Stiles had told him. As the principal went on, Scott realized they hadn’t mentioned anything about the murder. “With heavy hearts we must continue on with our studies, and school will proceed without delay. Mrs. Martin is available to anyone who feels truly distressed by the passing of Mrs. Menhennet.”

They had a moment of silence after the announcement came to a close, and then Harris picked up class from where they’d left off on Friday.

It was strange the way everyone was able to carry on as if nothing had happened. Menhennet hadn’t been a favourite teacher to many – Scott hadn’t even had her as a teacher – but he still felt uneasy. He could tell Stiles felt the same way.

Maybe it was because they knew the truth. Menhennet hadn’t just _passed away_. She had been murdered. And her murderer was still stalking the streets of Beacon Hills.

΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅

Stiles didn’t think his day could get any worse. After having next to no sleep the night before, his dad had sat him down in the morning to tell him about Menhennet, which Stiles had to feign surprise about.

His jeep refused to start, so he had to bike to school. Scott wouldn’t even look at him after he admitted to what he saw last night. And now he was sitting in Menhennet’s English class. Most of the other students chattered on as if nothing was wrong, but there were a few of them who kept their eyes down.

All those eyes shot up when Derek Hale walked into the classroom.

Stiles’s entire body froze. His reaction reflected in Todd, who froze mid-jump and tumbled hard to the floor. The commotion attracted the entire room’s attention. Including Derek’s.

Initially, the older man broke out into a wide grin. It quickly faded, replaced by a deep frown of confusion.

Stiles shrank in his seat, a blush heating his neck and face.

Lobo padded over but stopped short when Derek growled his name. Lobo tilted his head, emitting a low whine.

Derek picked up the attendance clipboard and began scanning it. Stiles knew the precise moment Derek found his name on there, because his eyes shot up to glare a hole into Stiles’s head.

Someone in the class raised their hand. Derek stopped pinning Stiles with the deadly look. “What?” He asked tersely. Most of the students cringed at how aggressive he sounded.

“Sorry… but, um… who are you?” The girl asked, her voice weak and apologetic. Derek blinked and looked around. He visibly panicked and turned to face the blackboard, scribbling his last name.

“My name is Mr. Hale.” He set the chalk down and wiped his hands on his pants, leaving handprints of powder across his thighs. Stiles would have remarked about how adorable that was, but that seemed like a really bad idea at the moment. “I’m here, for now, to teach your English class.” Derek spared one final glance at Stiles, and then didn’t look at him for the rest of the hour. “I’ll admit that I don’t have much experience teaching, so this is going to be a learning experience for me too.”

Rookie mistake, admitting that he was new to teaching. If Stiles didn’t know Derek, and if he wasn’t already in deep shit with him, he wouldn’t have given Derek a moment of peace.

Instead Stiles remained uncharacteristically quiet. Todd wrapped himself up in a ball and didn’t move for the entire class. Even though Derek ignored Stiles throughout class, even skipping his name when he called out attendance, Lobo kept stealing glances at Stiles. He kept inching towards Stiles’s desk, slowly getting closer and closer until he was sitting right beside Todd.

Derek managed to ignore his familiar’s disobedience.

The hour stretched out as long as physically possible. Stiles didn’t even hear a word Derek said, not until it was, “Stiles Stilinski. I’d like a word with you.” Stiles had almost been out the door when he heard that. He snapped to attention, surprised that Derek had directed words at him.

They waited until the rest of the students had piled out and then Derek shut the door, locking it for good measure. Lobo, thinking this was permission to _finally_ relax, trotted over to Stiles and nudged Stiles’s hand with his snout. The reaction was instant. Stiles felt the vibration of energy run up his arm and through his entire body.

It was _want_ and _need_ and _home_. That sort of connection was strong, and the fact that Lobo was even okay with touching Stiles after Derek had been so hostile was confusing.

“Lobo!” Derek growled, grabbing his familiar by the scruff on his neck, dragging him away. “I’m sorry, he shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know what’s wrong with him. Whenever you’re around he acts like an idiot.” Derek’s tone was strained.

Stiles didn’t know what to say. He resorted to apologies, even though he knew it wouldn’t be enough.

“I’m sorry Derek, I should’ve told you. I shouldn’t have lied about my age.” Stiles tried but Derek didn’t say anything. He kept his back turned to Stiles. “I really, _really_ like you. I like spending time with you. I was afraid that if you found out I was still in high school you wouldn’t be into me anymore.”

“You’re right.” Derek ground out, his voice a gritty growl. “You’re a minor. You lied to me. I’m your teacher now. We’re done. Now get out.”

Stiles respected Derek’s blunt manner, but he wanted a chance to explain himself. “Wait.” Stiles tried but Derek shot him a silencing glare over his shoulder.

Todd nipped at Stiles’s jeans, tugging him towards the door. Lobo watched them leave, occasionally looking up at Derek as if to say, _you’re letting them leave like this_?


	9. Chapter 9

A couple weeks passed and Derek settled into his new job as an English teacher with relative difficulty. There were days he considered himself extremely lucky for the opportunity – those days were short-lived. Every time he saw Stiles seated at a desk during second period, his heart strained against his better judgement.

He knew he should still be angry at Stiles – and he was – but he still had feelings for him, which was the worst part. They’d only been together a short amount of time, but the memories haunted him. Oftentimes he would catch himself drifting into a memory of Stiles’s lopsided smile, the boy twisted up in bedsheets, skin bared.

Lobo had become more withdrawn; the wolf lumbered around, rarely moving unless to follow Derek into the next room. He’d curl up into a ball after that, with his tail wrapped around his body, covering his face. The familiar was completely unresponsive.

Derek didn’t know what to do.

His sister had noticed Lobo’s dejected state the last time he’d went to the café for a visit. “Why’s Lobo so depressed? Have your little school kids been pulling his tail or something?” She asked, and even though sarcasm laced everything she said, he could tell she was worried. Derek shrugged.

“No, nothing like that.” Derek wasn’t about to tell his sister the real reason Lobo was acting so aloof and disheartened.

She gave him an unimpressed look.

“You two should go see Deaton.” She suggested, and Derek immediately refused. “What if something’s seriously wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, he’s just overwhelmed by the new job.” Derek tried, but Laura remained unconvinced. Iona, his sister’s familiar, nudged Lobo in an attempt to get him up and moving, but he barely responded, lifting his head only long enough to give the snow leopard a bored look.

Iona tried again, swatting at Lobo’s face. The wolf merely rolled over and curled up, ignoring the other familiar’s efforts.

“Are _you_ feeling okay?” Laura asked, concern creasing her forehead. Derek swallowed hard, looking away from his sister so that she wouldn’t see the momentary lapse of pain flitter across his expression. He regained his composure almost immediately and looked back up at her.

“Yeah, I’m great! Couldn’t be better. I finally got a job doing what I’ve wanted to do since college. No offense to you sis, but it definitely beats working here for the rest of my life.” He smirked, but not even his snipe was enough to distract Laura from her scrutiny of him and Lobo.

Laura’s eyes narrowed, still unconvinced. “If you don’t set up an appointment with Deaton by this weekend I’m telling mom.” Derek rolled his eyes – leave it to Laura to resort to childish antics like tattling on him to his mother.

“Fine, whatever, I’ll go see Deaton.” He conceded, though the likelihood of him following through with the promise was questionable.

Laura took that as a victory and then ushered him away so that she could serve the next customers in line.

Derek returned to his apartment after that and began grading assignments. Lobo skulked off into the bedroom, leaving Derek alone in the living room.

In the emptiness and darkness, he allowed himself a moment of weakness. He pulled out his cell phone and scrolled through his pictures. There was only one picture of Stiles there – it was blurry and Derek’s only real evidence of the time Stiles spent with him.

Stiles’s hair was messy, sticking out at gravity defying angles. His eyes were half-lidded. Derek had taken it the morning after they spent their first and only night together. Stiles was pale and sleepy, and hadn’t even realized Derek had taken the picture until afterwards. Then he’d demanded to take a picture of Derek. Luckily Derek hadn’t let him.

Teacher-student relationships – relationships with _minors_ – were legally condemnable. Stiles had lied to him about his age, so it wasn’t a far stretch to consider the possibility that his moral compass wasn’t pointing due North. Maybe he would have shown the picture to someone, and that someone told Principal Argent, and then the police found out and hauled him off for fraternizing with an underage student.

Derek would be out of a job, his reputation ruined, and probably serving jail time.

Bile rose in the back of Derek’s throat. He didn’t want to think about Stiles anymore. His finger hovered over the ‘delete’ button. He couldn’t do it. He shut his phone and tossed it aside.

He flipped to the next assignment. _Stiles Stilinski_. He stared at the name for a long, _long_ time. With a sigh he began marking it. He tried to remain as objective as possible while he read through Stiles’s work, but it was difficult to remain detached when at the end of the assignment Stiles had scrawled, _I miss you_.

Derek set aside the papers. He was finished with marking for the night.

΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅

“Erica invited us all over to hang out tonight, you in?” Scott asked, waving a hand in front of Stiles’s face to break his friend out of whatever daze he was in.

Stiles blinked. “Huh?” He asked unintelligibly, looking at Scott as if just now realizing he’d joined him at the cafeteria table.

“Erica’s place tonight. You’re invited.” Stiles wasn’t invited, per say, but Scott was extending the invitation anyways. For a few weeks now Stiles had been distant. At first Scott thought it was because of the incident with Menhennet, but Stiles never seemed to care much for her when she was living, so he didn’t believe her being dead had anything to do with Stiles’s sour mood.

“Oh,” Stiles muttered, running a hand across his face, “Sure. I guess.” Not exactly the kind of indifferent answer Scott was looking for, but he would take whatever kind of response he could get at this point. Copper rested his head on the table beside Stiles, looking up at him with puppy dog eyes, an expression that always melted Stiles.

No reaction.

“It’ll be Erica, Boyd, Isaac, and us, is that cool?” Scott wanted to keep Stiles engaged in the conversation. Stiles just shrugged.

“Cool,” Stiles mumbled.

Scott let out a huff of frustrated air. Stiles wasn’t giving him anything to work with. Scott abandoned his friend to focus on Todd instead. The fox seemed to be in poor spirits as well. Usually you were lucky to catch a glimpse of red fur as the fox bolted from place to place, but lately he’d been moping around slower than a turtle.

“Hey, Todd,” Scott tried, but the fox ignored him, blatantly looking away from Scott to stare off at some distant thing. “Todd!” Scott barked, this time receiving an ear quirk for his efforts. “Why are you and Stiles being such assholes?”

Suddenly Stiles jerked to life, his eyes snapping up to meet Scott’s.

“Fine, you wanna know what’s wrong?” Stiles asked, his voice taking on a tone that Scott had never heard from his friend before. He was angry. Stiles never got angry at Scott – sure he’d gotten irritated and frustrated before, but never _angry_. “I got dumped.”

Scott wasn’t expecting that. “Wait, what?”

Stiles’s jaw clenched and he took a deep breath. “I was seeing this guy and shit got complicated, and now it’s over. And it sucks. Because I really liked him.” There was a slight pause. Stiles’s outburst attracted attention from nearby tables, but he didn’t seem to care. “I liked him _too much_. And then I fucked everything up.”

Scott hadn’t even known Stiles was seeing someone, let alone interested in someone besides Lydia. “Why didn’t you tell me about him?” Scott asked. Stiles was his best friend. If Scott had to hear about Stiles’s crush on Lydia for _years_ , why hadn’t he said anything about this new guy?

“Like I said. It got complicated.” Stiles replied, sitting back in his chair, seemingly calming down. “Whatever. It’s over. I’m done. What time should I meet you at Erica’s?”

Scott had hoped Stiles would be happier about hanging out. “Five. Her dad’s making us dinner and we’re hanging around her basement.” Stiles drummed his fingers against the table and grabbed up his tray of cafeteria food. He stood from the bench.

“I’ll see you then.” Stiles mumbled, dumping his tray out into a nearby garbage. He hadn’t eaten any of it. Scott could do little more than watch his friend go, shoulders slumped and head bowed. Scott had never seen Stiles like this before.

“Hey Scotty!” Erica greeted him happily as she slid into the bench beside him. Boyd and Isaac joined shortly after, taking seats across the table from them. “Tonight’s gonna be legendary!” She clapped her hands excitedly and Harley chirped her approval. Even Kunu seemed to be more energetic than usual, hanging off the side of the table.

Copper and Scout greeted each other, tails wagging wildly.

Nothing had really happened since Scott and Isaac spent that Saturday together, a few weeks back. Scott wasn’t exactly disappointed – Isaac was still his friend, they still saw each other every day at school and at Erica’s house when she invited them all over – but he had hoped that something more would manifest between them.

Isaac hadn’t brought it up, so Scott didn’t press the issue.

“About tonight…” Scott started, and Erica’s eyes instantly narrowed.

“You’re not allowed to bail Scott. This is the only night my mom’s working late, and my dad’s leaving at eight to go bowling with his buddies from the shop.” She pointed directly at his nose. “We are all getting illegally drunk. It has been written into the fabric of time and space.” She paused, waving her hand in Isaac’s direction. “Even _Isaac’s_ dad is out of town on a business trip for the weekend. The stars have aligned, and we are not postponing.”

Scott glanced over at Isaac to see a barely concealed smile.

“No, that’s not it. I, um, I invited Stiles, if that’s okay.” Scott said, and a wave of worry washed over him. “I’m sorry, I should’ve asked you first, but he’s been seriously bummed out lately and I think he really needs to get out of his room-,” Scott was on a tirade, one that Isaac stopped with one press of his hand against Scott’s knee.

Erica started laughing. “Calm down! It’s okay, sheesh.”

Boyd smirked. “It’s more than okay, Erica’s probably _loving_ the idea of having Stiles all to herself all night.” He winked at her and she rolled her eyes.

“The more the merrier,” Erica said, crossing her arms, “But that doesn’t mean invite anyone else.” She shot Scott a sharp look, and then turned her glare on Boyd. “For your information, I happen to like Stiles as a person because he’s a super dork. That makes him better than most of the other guys in this school who are all too emotionally constipated to admit they have feelings and shit.”

She slammed her hand down on the table in front of them and then pulled out her cell phone. The boys all exchanged looks.

“Uh,” Isaac stuttered, “Are you okay?” Erica pinned Isaac with a dangerous look. “Right, no, of course you are. Sorry.” He bowed his head, hoping that she couldn’t smell the fear radiating off of him.

Scott excused himself a short while afterwards, because the table had fallen silent. He didn’t really know what was happening, and he didn’t want to leave Isaac alone, but he thought maybe he made things uncomfortable, since he was the newest to the group.

On his way out of the cafeteria he allowed himself one final glance over his shoulder at the table. Isaac was staring at him. He offered Scott a reassuring smile, which Scott returned. Then he left, but his thoughts remained with Isaac.

He couldn’t wait to see him tonight.

΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅

“This is _very_ strange.” Deaton tapped a thoughtful finger to his chin. He was leaned over Lobo, obscuring Derek’s view of his familiar. He was forced to make uncomfortable eye contact with the Raven’s beady black eyes. Even though it was extremely unsettling, he couldn’t bring himself to look away. “Have you noticed this?”

Deaton picked up Lobo’s front left paw and presented it to Derek.

Derek frowned and tried to brush away some dirt on his familiar’s paw. “So, he needs a bath. Is that why he’s been acting weird?”

Deaton tilted his head and set Lobo’s paw back down. He rubbed the familiar’s ear, sparking a warm feeling through Derek’s bond with the wolf. “Not exactly. I don’t think any amount of scrubbing is going to change that colour. Lobo’s fur seems to be darkening naturally.”

Derek was quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I would say it’s rare, but recent events seem to disagree with that conclusion,” Deaton’s brow furrowed. “Your familiar’s fur is becoming discoloured. It looks to me like your wolf is becoming a ginger.”

Derek’s stomach dropped. He lifted Lobo’s paw and examined it more closely.

A familiar tint of red and brown. Almost exactly like Todd’s fur… Derek mentally stopped himself from going down that path. He wouldn’t think of Stiles or his familiar. He couldn’t.

“Why is this happening?” Derek asked, panic rising from the base of his spine to the back of his throat.

Deaton shrugged. “Usually it’s a hormonal thing. A change in environment. You got a new job, correct? Perhaps the stress is adversely affecting you.” Deaton paused, giving Derek a meaningful look. “Or maybe it’s something a little more personal.”

Deaton’s raven cawed loudly, startling Derek.

“Is there anything I can do?” He asked, avoiding the doctor’s unsettling gaze.

Deaton shook his head. “There’s nothing wrong, exactly. It’s likely the effects are permanent. All you can do is try to relax.”

Very unhelpful.

Derek scooped Lobo up from the examination table and set his familiar down before shaking Deaton’s hand. “Thanks for your time.” He said politely, while internally cursing the doctor for not being more helpful.

Deaton smiled. “Anytime. If the condition worsens, please do come back to see me.”

Derek nodded and then took Lobo home, tucking his familiar into his bed.

“Things are going to get better,” Derek consoled the wolf, but Lobo was as unresponsive as ever. He emitted a low whine, looking up at Derek with round, watery eyes. He howled low in his throat and Derek shoved his face in the wolf’s neck fur. “I…” Derek said, barely a whisper, “I miss him too, okay? But we can’t.”

The wolf whined, shifting until he was lying half on top of Derek. He stared at Derek with pleading eyes.

“He lied to us.” Derek growled, some of the anger returning from before. Lobo’s ears fell back as he rested his chin on Derek’s chest. The anger fizzled out quickly, replaced by sadness. It just wasn’t fair. If things had been different…

Derek closed his eyes. He stopped thinking about Stiles. He stopped thinking about anything. He fell asleep with the purpose of not waking up until Stiles had been completely wiped from his mind – unconscious or otherwise.

΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅

A few hours later Derek awoke to his phone chiming. Stiles’s name flashed across the screen. Derek’s heart plummeted. There were four messages. He stared at his phone for a long time…

After what seemed like an eternity, he opened the first message.

΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅

“You’re late.” Erica said, crossing her arms.

“Where’s the party at!” Stiles slurred, his arms spread wide. Erica swung the door open and pulled him inside. Todd stumbled in, knocking into Stiles’s legs. Erica closed the door and turned to pin him with a look.

“Are you _drunk_?” She asked. She sounded angry. Stiles didn’t want her to yell at him.

“Maybe?” He tried to casually lean against the wall but his buzzed brain didn’t factor in how far the wall was from him. He missed entirely, head-butting the wall instead. “Ow.”

Erica snorted, shaking her head. “You are such a fuckin’ dork.” She grabbed his hand and began leading him into the house. Stiles used the weight of her hand on his to ground himself. He followed her down stairs without incident. “Your boyfriend’s drunk.” Erica announced as she led Stiles into the downstairs living room.

Once they reached the group she let go of Stiles’s hand and plopped herself down next to Boyd. Harley pounced on Kunu, knocking over the groaning panda bear.

“Stiles?” Scott asked, and Stiles looked over to see his best friend’s worried expression.

“I’m not _drunk_ ,” Stiles denied, and he thought he sounded _very_ convincing, but Scott didn’t look convinced at all. “I just… I had a couple drinks before I came.”

“A couple drinks of what?” Scott asked.

Stiles raised his finger and then reached into the backpack he’d brought with him. He slowly pulled out a bottle, revealing the _Jack Daniels_ label. Erica squealed with joy, jumping up from the couch and skipping over to Stiles.

“You are _amazing_.” She moaned, grabbing the bottle out of Stiles’s hand. Stiles smiled and dropped into the lone armchair in the corner. The moment he sat Todd jumped up into his lap.

“Where did you get that?” Scott paused, his eyes widening. “How did you get here? Tell me you didn’t drive.”

Stiles scoffed. He stroked Todd’s fur and shook his head. “I rode my bike, relax.” He didn’t want to tell them that he stole the bottle from his dad’s liquor cabinet.

Luckily, Scott was relieved enough to drop the subject. Erica disappeared upstairs and reappeared moments later carrying shot glasses. “One shot each to start.”

Scott looked like he wanted to protest but Erica had a way of railroading things to her advantage. No one was about to argue with her when she started pouring the drinks and handing them out. Isaac looked a little concerned too, but one shot wouldn’t kill him.

“To our Senior year and saying goodbye to this boring ass town!” Erica cheered, and the glasses clinked together. The boys repeated her words and then drank. Scott sniffed his while Isaac sipped at his. Boyd downed the alcohol in one swig while Erica chased hers with a can of coke. Stiles gulped his back, the burn a welcome sensation.

He slammed his glass down on the table. “Another!” He exclaimed but Erica hid the bottle from him.

“I think you’ve had enough, considering you had a head start on us.” She played keep away from Stiles’s grabby hands until Boyd stepped in and grabbed the bottle from her. Stiles looked at Boyd, looked at the bottle, and then moped and sank into the chair. “I don’t want you throwing up. Vomit stinks.”

Stiles sighed. He wasn’t drunk. He was just buzzed. She made a good point though.

“We still up for watching a movie?” Isaac asked. Stiles didn’t think he could sit still long enough to watch anything, but the group already made previous plans to watch something. Erica put something on but Stiles didn’t pay attention to what it was. He kept pulling out his phone, biting his lip in contemplation.

He knew he shouldn’t do it. Derek hadn’t spoken a single word to him since the day he found out Stiles had lied to him about being an underage student. He regretted not telling him the truth. He regretted not fighting _harder_ to be with Derek.

So he texted him.

**_Stiles:_ **

**I miss you.**

He waited all of two seconds before sending along a string of messages.

**_Stiles:_ **

**I’m sorry.**

**_Stiles:_ **

**I was afraid you wouldn’t give me a chance if you knew how young I was.**

**_Stiles:_ **

**But you did give me a chance, and I blew it. I lied to you and I’m so sorry.**

After he sent them he sunk into the couch, feeling sorry for himself. No one noticed his dejection. Scott and Isaac were getting close on the loveseat while Erica rested her head in Boyd’s lap. Stiles felt very much like a fifth wheel, worsening his growing loneliness until he just couldn’t take it anymore. Todd tried to compensate by nuzzling Stiles and demanding attention, but he wasn’t in the mood to coddle his familiar.

He stood from his seat and excused himself. The others barely blinked at his absence.

He found his way to the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror. He tried to focus, but the edges of the world were blurred by the alcohol. He splashed water on his face, hoping that might help him cool off, but nothing was working.

He needed to take a walk.

He found his shoes and left. Todd trailed beside him, whining every so often to let Stiles know he did not like this plan. Stiles didn’t know where he was going until he saw Derek’s apartment building in the distance. He stopped and stared at it.

What was he doing?

Derek had made it clear he didn’t want anything to do with Stiles. But Stiles felt _compelled_ in his direction. He couldn’t stop himself. It wasn’t sane. It wasn’t healthy. His attachment had turned into borderline stalking.

He couldn’t do this. It was wrong.

He turned and began walking back the way he came, completely frustrated and disappointed in himself. He needed to respect Derek’s wishes.

Halfway back to Erica’s his phone began buzzing, signalling an oncoming call. It was Scott.

“Where the hell did you go?” Scott asked.

“For a walk. I’m headed back now.” Stiles answered, waiting for his friend to tear a strip off of him for being so stupid.

“Where are you now? Are you okay?” Scott asked, his worry palpable. Stiles heard Erica in the background, but he couldn’t quite make out what she said. “We’re coming to get you.”

“Uhh… I’m just about to pass the park on Heathcliff. It’s okay man, I’ll be back in like ten minutes.” Stiles said, though he’d already wandered off the sidewalk towards the dark jungle gym. The park was barely lit, and creepy as hell, but Stiles didn’t care.

“Erica wanted to go for a walk anyways. We’ll see you soon. And Stiles?” Scott asked. Stiles closed his eyes.

“Yeah?” This was the part where Scott yelled at him.

“I’m here for you man… if you want to talk about this asshole that dumped you, or if you don’t, that’s fine. I’m bringing the booze.” Scott said, and Stiles _loved_ Scott.

“Alright, thanks Scott.” He said and ended the call. He climbed onto platform, carrying Todd with him, and sat against the railing, staring up at the dark sky.

Derek hadn’t replied. He probably wouldn’t.

Stiles sighed and set his phone down next to him. Todd stared at him, his head tilted. He didn’t understand why Stiles felt this way. Stiles could feel confusion and worry through their bond. He tried to calm down, and it started to work.

But then he heard it.

An ear-splitting scream that sliced the silence and sent his heart racing. He looked around the playground. The scream sounded close, but no one was there. He looked to the treeline and saw movement, but he couldn’t be sure if that was wind rustling the trees or something else.

The silence that settled after the scream was extremely _unsettling_. He expected to hear a group of screaming, laughing teenagers being loud and rowdy on a Friday night, but there was absolutely nothing.

A cold chill crawled up his spine. He climbed down the stairs, with Todd tight in his arms against his chest. He would meet up with the others along the way.

Before he reached the sidewalk, he heard something behind him. He turned to look and saw something standing along the treeline. A shadowed figure.

He crouched behind a cable box and watched them walk towards the street. They dragged something behind them. He wanted to get a closer look but the cable box was the only nearby cover and he didn’t want to chance being spotted.

He heard Scott call out to him, and the figure froze. They darted into the treeline and Stiles cursed Scott under his breath. He crawled towards the sidewalk where the others were approaching.

“We should get out of here.” He said, and Scott frowned.

“We just got here though.” Scott replied, but Stiles shook his head.

“Trust me. Let’s just… go back to Erica’s.” Stiles tried. Erica scoffed.

“So _now_ you wanna be at my place?” She sounded somewhat offended, but she’d get over it. Stiles set Todd down and linked his arm through Erica’s, spinning her around.

“Sorry for earlier, gorgeous. You have my full, undivided attention for the rest of the night. And we have an entire bottle of Jack’s to drink.” He said, hoping to win her forgiveness by offering booze. It worked. She fell into step beside him.

“It’s officially after ten. That’s when the real fun starts.” She giggled and bumped her hips against his.

Stiles really, _really_ hoped that was true.


	10. Chapter 10

Lobo nudged Derek’s hand. Derek had wandered through his apartment in a haze, moving mindlessly through the motions. Eventually he wound back up in his bedroom, in his desk chair, reading the messages Stiles had sent to him.

 _I miss you_.

Derek couldn’t deny the emptiness he felt within himself since he’d told Stiles they couldn’t be together anymore. But it was the right decision – or, at least, he kept telling himself that.

 _I’m sorry_.

Derek wanted to forgive Stiles. He hated feeling so betrayed and vulnerable and _lied to_. It twisted his stomach into a knot of vile unease. If he could forgive Stiles, if he could look passed the fact that he’d lied to him, maybe this wouldn’t be so hard.

_I was afraid you wouldn’t give me a chance if you knew how young I was._

It wasn’t the fact that Stiles was younger. Derek could have handled that. A couple years wasn’t too bad, but the _kid_ was still in _high school_. He was officially Derek’s student, and there were laws against that, probably.

_But you did give me a chance, and I blew it. I lied to you and I’m so sorry._

This had to stop. Derek couldn’t take it anymore. He dialed. He didn’t think about what he was doing. He just _dialed_.

And Stiles didn’t even pick up.

Derek sighed, rubbing a coarse hand over his face. He listened to Stiles’s voicemail greeting.

“Hey, you’ve reached the voicemail of Stiles, the one and only. Leave me your name and number and I’ll get back to you ASAP.”

Derek hung up before he heard the beep.

΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅

“I’m _so_ drunk.” Stiles crooned, slinging his arm over Scott’s shoulder and blindly knocking his hand against Isaac’s cheek. Scott and Isaac had been cuddling on the couch when Stiles had inserted himself into the middle of their intimate moment. Todd jumped up onto Stiles’s lap, swaying before falling over and curling up. “Dude, y’know, this is our last year of high school. How _insane_ is that?”

Isaac laughed under his breath, shifting away from Scott awkwardly. Scott gave Isaac an apologetic look before patting Stiles on the shoulder. “I know man, it’s crazy.”

“We should hang out more,” Stiles continued, but his voice and gaze were fixed on something distant. After a while his eyes lazily slid shut and his mouth hung open in a silent snore. Scott chuckled under his breath. He could always count on Stiles to be his suave wingman.

“He’s asleep,” Isaac said, sounding disappointed. Scott laughed again. He carefully slid Stiles off his shoulder and onto the arm of the couch where he and Todd remained for the rest of the night.

“Wanna go upstairs?” Scott asked, and Isaac nodded eagerly. Scott threaded his fingers through Isaac’s, tenderly tugging him to his feet and leading him up the stairs. They passed the kitchen, peeking in only long enough to see Erica and Boyd wrestling each other for the last pizza slice.

They made their way to the top of the stairs, where Isaac took lead to find Erica’s room. There they fell onto the bed, side by side, giggling uncontrollably as they tangled their legs together.

Scott’s laughter died down as he got a hold of his foggy mind. He stared into Isaac’s bright blue eyes and felt his heart throb with a longing he couldn’t smother any longer.

“I like you.” He confessed, leaning over to graze the tip of Isaac’s nose with his lips. Isaac froze for a moment, blinking at Scott in the low light. For a long moment the other boy remained silent and still.

And then suddenly Scott’s lips were being crushed by Isaac’s in a hot, drunk-sloppy kiss.

Scott’s body reacted immediately, his nerves already buzzed from the alcohol. Tingling sensations sparked through his body in every place Isaac’s hands grasped and caressed. Scott wrapped his hands around Isaac, pulling him as close as possible.

Isaac’s lips tugged harder, his kisses became hungrier, and the heat between swelled until Scott needed to pull away to catch his breath. Isaac’s lips trailed down to suck warm circles into Scott’s neck. Scott’s hips squirmed and writhed. He bit his swollen lips to stifle the urge to moan.

Just as Scott didn’t know if he could handle the growing pressure, Isaac pulled back, gently pressing a kiss to Scott’s lips. “I like you too.” Isaac mumbled, burrowing his face in Scott’s neck.

A thrill vibrated through Scott’s spine. He looked towards the doorway to see Scout cozying up to Copper, propping his head on top of the other dog’s.

He smiled, resting back down to snuggle closer to Isaac. They fell asleep in each other’s arms, with a wordless promise to stay that way for as long as possible.

΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅

“Fuck!” Stiles cursed. His brain felt like it had a heartbeat of its own – constantly pounding and straining to fend off last night’s adventures with alcohol. “Fuckity, fuck, _fuck_!” He searched all his pockets, all the spaces under and between the couches, and he couldn’t find his phone.

Erica moaned, slapping a hand to Stiles’s mouth. “Stop talking.” She pleaded, one hand supporting her forehead while the rest of her died on the couch. The two of them had drank the entire bottle of Jack’s in one sitting. Stiles did, in fact, throw up. So did Erica.

“Have you seen my phone?” He asked her, but she swatted him away. Harley was curled up next to her, in as bad a shape. The cheetah familiar yawned, her eyes never once opening. They weren’t going to have an easy Saturday.

Todd and Stiles had bounced back pretty easily – Stiles had thrown up most of the alcohol, and the fox’s spirit never dampened. Todd was darting around the basement, frantically trying to find the phone as well.

Stiles couldn’t remember much from the night before. Everything turned into a blur the moment he’d arrived at Erica’s last night. Most of his memories were garbled and too fuzzy to recall. He had this innate, unsettled feeling gnawing at his nerves.

He _needed_ to find his phone.

“Scott!” He hollered as he stamped up the stairs.

“Stiles! Shut the fuck up! My parents are asleep upstairs!” Erica hissed. A pillow came flying towards Stiles’s head. He tried to duck, but he was still hungover and operating at minimum levels. It collided with the side of his face and the impact forced him off balance. Like the uncoordinated sack of limbs he was, he tumbled backwards down the stairs, crashing into the wall with a _loud_ **THUMP**.

Erica groaned, securing another pillow to cover her ears and her face. Harley stared at Stiles, a pleased lilt in her eyes. He shot them both a glare from where he landed, ass over tea kettle at the bottom of the steps.

Todd let out a snicker of a snort, brown eyes lit up in amusement.

Stiles righted himself and continued his crusade, stomping up the stairs. He searched every room on the main floor and found Boyd curled up with Kunu on the couch in the livingroom. No sign of Scott.

With a sigh Stiles wandered into the bathroom. He splashed cold water on his face.

 _Think Stiles_. He urged himself, closing his eyes tightly. Where had he last used his phone? He remembered getting to Erica’s. He remembered taking shots. He remembered texting Derek… He remembered getting a call from Scott on his walk… He remembered-…

 _He remembered the park_.

The chill from the night before tickled his spine as the memory of the shadowy figure returned. _What was it dragging behind it?_ Stiles wondered, his stomach sick with the array of possibilities. He needed to go back. Not only for his phone, but to investigate.

He looked down to see Todd gazing up at him, eyes narrowed as if to say _here we go again_.

΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅

The park wasn’t vacant when Stiles rode up on his bicycle. A couple of younger kids were screwing around near the swings, but they totally ignored Stiles and Todd as they rolled up. Stiles immediately dismounted, freeing Todd of the basket before discarding the bike on the ground.

He raced up the stairs to scour the platforms for his phone, only to find his phone was still MIA. He hopped down and started brushing through the sand base of the park. He cursed himself for being so thoughtless.

Todd chirruped happily, pouncing at the ground a few times to get Stiles’s attention. He knelt down next to the fox and brushed away some of the sand to reveal his phone. Relief flooded through him. “You are the best.” He pat Todd’s head, receiving a few excited licks before Todd bounded off to roll around in the grass.

He powered up his phone, and his heart seized.

One missed call. _From Derek_.

Without thinking he hit redial and held the phone to his ear. With every extended ring, Stiles’s anxiety trembled. On the fourth ring, he heard a click. And then silence.

“Stiles.” Derek’s voice sounded strained. Stiles didn’t know what to say. After the silence stretched on, Derek finally spoke again. “We… need to talk.”

“Okay,” Stiles agreed, worried that he might say the wrong thing and scare Derek away.

“Where are you right now?” Derek asked and Stiles looked around.

“The park on Heathcliff.” Stiles answered, and then, “Look, Derek, I’m really sorry-.” He tried to say, but Derek cut him off.

“I’m coming to pick you up.” He said. “Be there in about ten.” He hung up before Stiles could say anything more.

With a sigh Stiles slid his phone into his pocket. He grabbed his bike and locked it up, knowing he’d come back for it later. With ten minutes between now and Derek, he could spare a glance around the trees. He crossed the playground and headed towards the treeline. Todd trailed reluctantly behind, darting from side to side.

At first glance, everything appeared to be normal. But Stiles knew what to look for. There were signs of dragging, where the grass was flattened and damp. He traced it from the treeline, deeper into the foliage, where he found snapped twigs and footprints set deep in the muddy earth.

He knew something was wrong. Call it intuition or common sense, but something had happened here last night. No doubt something disturbing.

The scream echoed through his mind.

Whatever that scream had been, it hadn’t been a good omen, and it seemed to still hang in the air as he pushed further into the trees. At a certain point, Todd outright refused to venture any deeper, placing his butt firmly on the ground with no intention of moving.

Stiles would have turned around – Derek would be there any minute to pick him up – but then a gust of wind blew through the trees, carrying the scent of something foul.

Here Stiles hesitated. Visions of Menhennet’s body flooded his mind. He didn’t want to relive that. He didn’t want to see another body. _And yet_. He needed to know. He needed to know what had made that scream.

His phone began to vibrate. It was Derek.

Stiles fought against his curiosity and prioritized. He chose Derek.

On his way out of the forest back towards the park, he dialed the anonymous tip line. He told the receiver about what he’d heard, where it was, and then he hung up and left it in the hands of the police.


	11. Chapter 11

When Isaac awoke, the low drum of pain inside his forehead pounded with every bleary blink of his eyes. He groaned, adjusting to stretch his back and his legs. As his legs creaked and his back cracked, another body curled into him, wrapping around his torso.

Scott’s hair tickled him as he nuzzled into Isaac’s chest, nestling into the crook of his neck. For a moment Isaac basked in the moment – committing the blissful ease he felt in his chest to memory. No matter what came next, he would hold on to this. The peace and warmth.

“Time is it?” Scott mumbled, his lips pressed against Isaac’s skin. Isaac scanned the room for a clock, but apparently Erica didn’t own one. He shifted, reaching over to where he’d left his phone the night before on the bedside table.

“Eleven,” Isaac answered as he unlocked the cell.

A row of missed calls dominated his screen. His heart sank. Fear began rising at the base of his throat, twisting his gut until he could taste bile on the back of his tongue.

One voicemail.

“I’ll be right back.” Isaac said as he tore away from the bed and left the room. Left Scott. His hands were shaking as he dialed to retrieve the message. He held the phone to his ear.

“Isaac,” his father’s voice sounded calm. Too calm. “The business trip was cut short. I’ll see you tonight, for dinner.” And the line went dead.

Isaac trembled with fear. Scout had followed him out of the bedroom and stared up at him with a pained expression in his eyes.

How could he have been so _stupid_? He should have had his phone on him, volume on, ready to answer the moment his father called the first time. He shouldn’t have drank. He shouldn’t have fallen asleep without checking his phone. He should have…

“Hey, is everything alright?” Scott poked his head out from the bedroom, his cheeks red and lips pressed into a worried line. Isaac’s heart hiccuped. He wanted to cry. He wanted to reach out and smooth the crease in Scott’s forehead. He wanted to run home and hide. He wanted to stay with Scott.

It didn’t matter what he wanted.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. I gotta go home though.” Isaac’s voice still shook, but he pushed passed Scott without meeting his eyes. He grabbed his socks and his shirt – articles he’d lost in the night while their bodies pressed against each other.

But last night was another world. One Isaac couldn’t be a part of anymore.

“Hey,” Scott tried, reaching out to grab Isaac’s arm, to steady him. Isaac paused, wanting nothing more than to melt into Scott’s embrace. He looked into Scott’s eyes, seeing that same familiar warmth he’d been basking in no more than a minute ago. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine.” Isaac lied. Scott sensed the lie, and a flicker of pain crossed his eyes. Isaac never wanted to hurt Scott, but he couldn’t stay and he couldn’t explain.

“Can I at least walk you to your place?” Scott asked, and a small glimmer of relief steadied Isaac’s harsh heartbeat.

“Yes, please.” Isaac answered, resting his hand on top of Scott’s. The boys managed a small trade of unsteady smiles.

“Just let me grab my things.” Scott made quick work of collecting his clothes and his bag, and the two of them quietly made their way to the basement. They found Erica and Harley curled up together on the couch, snoring soundly. They agreed not to wake the kraken. They passed Boyd on their way out of the house, but he merely grumbled a greeting and a goodbye before lumbering down the stairs.

They left the house and started towards Isaac’s.

As they walked, Isaac could feel Scott’s eyes on him. He tried his best to keep a calm composure – he didn’t want Scott to worry. He didn’t want him to know about the yelling… the crying… the freezer in the basement…

His father, at one point in time, before Isaac’s mother passed and his brother disappeared, had been a good dad. Bright memories of a distant past haunted Isaac. He remembered the man his father _used_ to be. Sometimes, he could even catch a fleeting glimpse in his dad’s eyes. The happiness they used to share.

Not anymore.

He couldn’t explain any of this to anyone. Of course, Erica and Boyd knew, but only enough that they also knew not to ask questions.

“So,” Scott said, scratching the back of his head. “Sleep well?” Copper let out a snort, which Scout returned.

Isaac smiled, despite the pit of worry growing in his stomach. “Yeah, I did.”

Scott nodded, and the two continued on in silence. It seemed neither of them knew what to say next. Isaac wanted to reassure Scott, but he didn’t know how to do that without lying, and without revealing too much.

When they finally reached Isaac’s house, Scott stopped and turned to face him. “Did I do something wrong? Did I make you uncomfortable?”

Isaac blinked, his heart suddenly sinking. “What? No. No. It’s… You didn’t do anything or say anything… You’re perfect.” His heart stuttered when Scott’s eyes met his.

Scott bit at his lower lip, obviously wanting to say more. After a short moment of hesitation, he did.

“Look,” he started, fiddling with his hands, “I don’t know if you know what it is you want… or if you’re comfortable with… me… and us being us… but, I really like you Isaac. But if you’re not ready for something serious, I’d understand.”

Isaac hadn’t ever really considered what he was. All he knew was that his father hated “faggots”. Just one more reason for him to despise his son.

“I want us.” Isaac replied truthfully. “But…” He trailed off, cheeks burning and chest stinging. “I don’t know if I’m ready for a… public thing.” Scott nodded his understanding, but he couldn’t hide the flash of pain behind his eyes. Isaac quickly back-pedalled. “It’s not because I’m not comfortable with who I am and who you are. It’s just… complicated. My family…”

Scott reached out, taking Isaac’s hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze. “You don’t have to justify anything Isaac, I understand, I promise.”

Isaac let out a relieved breath and Scout barked out a happy chord of contentment. “Thank you.”

Scott chuckled, letting Isaac’s hand fall back to his side. “You don’t have to thank me.”

“Still.” Isaac said, and looked towards his father’s house. He knew what waited for him inside those empty halls. “I should head inside.” Scout nudged Isaac’s hand, peering up at his human counterpart with sad eyes. He didn’t want to leave Scott and Copper either.

“Alright…” Scott trailed off, looking just as dejected as Scout.

Isaac didn’t want to leave things like this, especially not after last night. He grabbed Scott’s hand after a short glance around, and tugged him in for a hug. “I want us to be us. Together.” Isaac reiterated, lips grazing Scott’s ear. “I really like you too.”

Scott’s hold on him tightened as he spoke those words. Their embrace was brief, but for Isaac it lasted long after they said their goodbyes.

΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅

“So _o_ o _o_ o,” Stiles awkwardly blew out the word, expelling all the air in his lungs. Derek glanced sideways at him, lips pursed in a hard line. Stiles wasn’t sure what to expect. The last time they spoke, Derek made it clear he didn’t want anything to do with him.

Stiles had admittedly largely ignored Derek’s rejection. He left notes for Derek on the hand-in assignments. He tried to make as much eye contact with Derek in class as he could. He still hoped that Derek would change his mind.

Maybe it wasn’t fair of Stiles – to pursue Derek. Maybe it was completely wrong and inappropriate. Stiles wasn’t looking to justify himself. He still needed Derek in his life.

“I’m really, _really_ sorry,” Stiles started, but as soon as the words left his lips Derek looked over at him for the first time since he’d picked him up.

“Those are just words, Stiles,” Derek growled. Lobo whined from the backseat, but Derek ignored him. “Do you know how serious this is?”

Stiles slouched in his seat, any hope from before fading. Derek didn’t want to talk to him - to kiss and make up. He wanted Stiles to stop. Stop with the notes. Stop with the stares. Stop with the texts.

“Yeah, I do. And I still can’t help myself.” Stiles admitted, throwing his hands up in defeat. “I know I lied, and I know that wasn’t right. But what happened between us? That _was_ right. It was so right, Derek, and I just… I wish I could go back in time, y’know? To that night. Because it was perfect. And if lying brought us there, then I have _zero_ regrets.”

Derek was quiet for a long time. He wouldn’t look at Stiles, and his lips were pinched. His cheek kept twitching, like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t speak again until he pulled into his building’s parking lot.

“Here.” He said, tossing Stiles his apartment keys. “Go upstairs. I’ll meet you up there. I just… need a minute.”

Stiles searched for any hint of what Derek was thinking, or feeling, but his expression was solemn and unreadable. With a sigh Stiles climbed out of the car. Todd bounded out beside him. With one last glance, Stiles shut the door behind him and began towards the apartment.

΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅

“What am I doing?” Derek asked himself, breaking the silence that had settled in his car. Five minutes had passed, and Derek still didn’t know what to do.

He knew what he _should_ do. What any reasonable, sane person would.

End things.

Lobo growled low, wet nose nudging behind Derek’s ear. Derek reached over, patting his wolf’s snout. “I know.” Derek whispered. Being with Stiles, so privately and so close, had proven one thing. Staying away from Stiles would be impossible.

Derek couldn’t explain it. Throughout his entire life he’d never felt anything like the magnetism he felt when he was around Stiles. It was like Stiles was the sun, and Derek was his moon, caught in a gravitational pull no amount of force could undo. Despite Derek’s better judgement, he couldn’t detach. Even the thought of a final goodbye churned his stomach.

He patted Lobo’s head. “Alright boy, alright. You win.” Lobo’s tail happily swept the back window.

Derek fished his keys out of the ignition and let Lobo out of the back seat. On the way up to his apartment, Derek struggled with his decision, knowing what it might mean for him. There were so many risks…

“Hey,” Stiles greeted Derek the moment he opened the front door. Somewhere, in the back of Derek’s mind, he acknowledged the ignition of warmth in his chest at the thought of Stiles being there for him, waiting for him to get home.

“Want some coffee?” Derek asked as he shrugged off his jacket. Stiles nibbled on his lip, pulling Derek’s gaze to his mouth.

“Sure.” Stiles nodded. Just as he agreed, Todd came barrelling around the corner. The fox’s momentum overpowered its paws, and he crashed into the wall. He righted himself quickly, letting out a sneeze when he realized he was under skeptical scrutiny from all the humans in the room. “On second thought, we probably don’t need the caffeine. Makes us jittery.”

Derek suppressed a smirk. “Right. Tea then?”

“Tea’s good,” Stiles approved, scooping Todd up in his arms.

Derek busied himself with the kettle while Stiles hovered outside the open doorway to the kitchen. Lobo sniffed at Stiles, shuffling ever closer every time Derek had his back turned. When the wolf reached the doorway he planted himself and tilted his head expectantly up at Stiles.

“Lobo,” Stiles greeted, voice still unsteady and uncertain.

The wolf let out an abrupt bark, shaking Derek’s eardrums. “Lobo,” Derek growled a warning, but the wolf ignored him entirely. His tail twitched from side to side.

“It’s cool,” Stiles said, setting Todd back down. The two familiars sniffed at each other. Lobo pawed at Todd, who shrank away, as unsure about this as his human counterpart. “So,” Stiles started, and Derek tensed, knowing he couldn’t postpone the conversation they needed to have any longer. “You said we had to talk?”

Derek took a deep breath, collecting what was left of his courage and dismissing any final thoughts of doubt. He met Stiles’s searching stare.

“The messages have to stop.” Derek started. Stiles’s eyes dropped to the floor, shoulders drooping in disappointment. “They’re inappropriate, distracting, and dangerous. Someone could see them. If anyone finds out about us…” Derek trailed off. He could list all the reasons they shouldn’t be together, but that would be too discouraging, for both of them. “Well,” he continued, “it would ruin both of our lives. And I don’t want that.”

“What _do_ you want then?” Stiles asked, eyes rimmed with tears. “You want me to stop? Fine. But you can’t ask me to stop feeling this way, because I can’t. I will _always_ , always want to be with you.”

Derek’s heart tugged on the corner of his lips. “Good.”

Stiles blinked. “Good?”

“What I want, is you.” Derek crossed the room, only stopping a step away from Stiles. “Do you know how hard you’ve made this for me? I think about you. Every day. I can’t _stop_. It’s… a problem.”

A small smile crossed Stiles’s lips, growing wider with each passing second. “I have that effect on men.”

Derek rolled his eyes, sliding his hands around Stiles’s waist to pull him into a hug. “I’m still angry at you.”

Stiles leaned away slightly to press his grinning lips against Derek’s blushing cheek. “I know.”

“And we still can’t be what we were before.” Derek said. Stiles’s chin bobbed against Derek’s shoulder as he nodded his agreement. “We need to outline some general rules.”

Stiles chuckled. “Yes Mr. Hale, of course Mr. Hale.”

Derek reached down and pinched Stiles’s butt for his cheeky tone. Stiles’s body twitched. “I’m serious.”

“I know.” Stiles replied, and pulled away from Derek to tend to the steaming kettle. Derek grabbed a couple mugs and Stiles poured the tea, then the two of them found a place on the couch to cuddle while Todd and Lobo curled up at their feet. “So, what’re the rules? No dick pics? No late night booty calls?”

Derek snorted. “Definitely neither of those things. You’re only seventeen, Stiles. Sex, and anything related to it, is strictly prohibited. Along with public displays of affection and familiarity. As far as the rest of the world is concerned, we have a typical student teacher relationship. You think I’m a power-tripping asshole, and you’re an obnoxious pain in my ass.”

“I don’t think I’ll have to fake that part.” Stiles smirked, and Derek nipped at his neck. “Whoa! I thought you said no sexy things!”

Derek nipped him again, this time a little more gently. “Within these walls, the rules don’t apply. I still won’t touch you until you turn eighteen, but kissing’s okay.”

Stiles twisted until his body turned into Derek’s. “Oh, is it now?” He asked, leaning up to graze his lips against Derek’s.

“Yeah,” Derek answered, head already dazed by the overwhelming sensations shooting through his body. Stiles lingered only a moment more before devouring Derek’s lips in a hot kiss.

Derek knew their relationship would be complicated, but complicated was sort of their thing.


	12. Chapter 12

“So,” Boyd plopped down on the end of the couch near Erica’s feet. “Are we going to talk about last night?”

Erica moaned, burying her face in her makeshift sweater-pillow. Her golden blonde hair was a matted, tangled mess, cascading over her face. She made multiple sounds of discontentment and refusal, all which were accompanied by soft chuffs from Harley.

“Come on,” Boyd persisted, resting his hand on Erica’s leg to shake her awake. “We gotta talk.”

Erica’s brain was still slightly buzzed, and as she blinked her eyes open a blurry world wobbled into focus. She took a moment to steady her brain. When she realized _why_ Boyd was there, and what he was talking about, her heart plummeted.

Erica let out one final groan before throwing her hair away from her face to pin Boyd with a bitter leer. “We don’t _gotta_ do anything.” She argued, but she slowly pulled herself up and brushed her hair away from her face.

Boyd raised an unimpressed eyebrow at her. “So, you just want to pretend like it never happened?”

Erica sighed. “Don’t you?” She asked, and for the first time she met his gaze. A fierce challenge burned in their eyes. Neither would be the first to look away.

Finally, after the silence became too much to bare, Boyd dropped his gaze, shaking his head. “Fine.” After a few moments he stood, shoulders slumped. He turned away from her and made it to the bottom of the stairs before he looked over his shoulder. “You should talk to Stiles, at least.”

She buried her face again, and Boyd decided that was his cue to take his leave.

Erica’s face burned with embarrassment the moment he disappeared up the stairs. Though the booze had affected her last night, she hadn’t drank enough to erase the memories in the morning. The horrible, _horrible_ memories.

Erica shuddered as she recalled everything…

The bottle’s rim pressed against her lips, cold and bitter. The lips that replaced that bottle, warm and soft. The interruption. The stretch of her throat and stomach as she wretched, the burn of alcohol and bile mixing together.

She whimpered, pressing her face deeper into the couch.

She couldn’t believe she kissed _him_. It wasn’t supposed to happen like that, when she was drunk. She wanted it to feel more special… because he was so special to her. And now she ruined it, and maybe even their friendship.

Harley pressed closer to her and nudged Erica’s nose with her own. Erica met her familiar’s eyes and a sense of comfort washed away her shame. She curled around the cheetah, burying her face in the familiar’s fur.

΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅

“Rolo or Kit Kat?” Stiles asked, his head submerged in the freezer. Derek couldn’t resist – he walked over and grabbed Stiles’s hips, pressing his crotch against the younger man’s ass.

“Both?” He offered, leaning over Stiles to reach in and grab both tubs of ice cream. Stiles wiggled his butt against Derek as they backed out of the fridge.

“Why do you have so much ice cream anyways?” Stiles asked as he fished out a couple spoons from a nearby drawer. Derek sighed, stealing a spoon from Stiles and bopping him on the nose with it.

“Needed comfort food,” Derek admitted, but didn’t linger long enough to catch whatever reaction Stiles would have to that. He slipped out of the kitchen and melted into the couch in the living room, where he was shortly rejoined by Stiles. Before Stiles could sit, however, Todd jumped up into Derek’s lap.

A jolt ran through Derek, and the fox’s tail furrowed. Stiles froze, surprise and horror knitting his eyebrows into a profound frown. Todd eyed Derek. And then he eyed the bowl of ice cream.

“I am so sorry,” Stiles panicked, scooping Todd up and setting him firmly down on the ground. The moment the fox’s feet touched down, he sprang, and again landed in Derek’s lap.

“Down,” Derek ordered. Todd tilted his head at him. Derek poked the fox’s nose with his spoon. Before he could pull it away, Todd licked eagerly at the remnants of ice cream. “Your fox is as ridiculous as you are.”

Stiles visibly blushed and shooed Todd away, taking the fox’s place and leaning into Derek as he sat. “He doesn’t really understand social etiquette yet.”

Derek scoffed, “I doubt he ever will.”

Stiles smirked, shrugging as he shoveled a spoonful of creamy, cold goodness into his mouth. “Haters gon’ hate.” Derek rolled his eyes, but he didn’t complain when Stiles cuddled closer. They settled in, flicking some movie on for something to do.

It wasn’t as awkward as Derek thought it might be.

They talked about school, and about Derek’s family and Stiles’s friends, and it didn’t feel strange or forced. There was something deeper between them – something more profound than lust, and more intimate than acquaintanceship.

It scared Derek. It excited him. It made his heart hum with happiness.

“Hold on,” Stiles said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, frowning at it for a couple seconds before his eyes flickered up to meet Derek’s. “It’s my mom.” His voice squeaked. “Just… just be quiet for a sec.”

Lobo barked his disapproval and Derek shot him a silencing look.

“Hey mom,” Stiles greeted. Derek waited patiently, straining to decipher words from the low buzz of a voice he heard over the phone. Stiles frowned. That couldn’t be good. “No, I’m not with Scott. I’m just… I’m at the Hale Café. Why, what’s up?”

Derek raised an eyebrow at the lie, but Stiles pressed a finger to his lips to reiterate the fact that Derek needed to stay quiet.

“Oh.” Stiles suddenly said, eyes bulging wide with surprise. Derek couldn’t help but notice how dark and thick Stiles’s eyelashes were in that moment, and how his eyes seemed to glow amber orange. “Holy shit…” Stiles scrambled for the television remote and flipped through Derek’s small collection of cable channels. He stopped on the news station, where a breaking news report was being delivered. Stiles thumbed up the volume.

“… No more information has been released regarding the recent death of Catherine Menhennet, but some believe the three recent deaths are linked.” Stiles and Derek exchanged glances. Derek saw something flash in Stiles’s eyes – a memory, or a secret.

“Yeah, I’m watching it right now, I’ll call you right back.” Stiles said, and ended the call.

“Another victim was found, later this afternoon, near Heathcliff Park. Although no statement has been made, authorities initially reported making similar findings as with the previous scenes.”

Stiles visibly paled. “Hey,” Derek coaxed him, sensing Stiles’s anxiety, “You okay?”

Stiles smiled – or, he tried to. His lips trembled and struggled into a lie of a lopsided smile. “Yeah, yeah.” He cleared his throat. “It’s just scary, y’know? So close to home.”

“If anyone has any information regarding these investigations, please contact the Beacon Hills Police Department, or reach out through Anonymous Tips.” Stiles shut the television off.

Derek slid his arm around Stiles, running his fingertips in soothing circles along Stiles’s shoulder. “Did you know her?” Derek asked, and slightly regretted the question when he saw Stiles flinch.

“Menhennet? Yeah. She was our English teacher before you came in.” Stiles replied, and suddenly seemed more uneasy than before. He pulled away from Derek and fished out his phone again. He dialed, and Derek sat silently, watching Stiles carefully.

“Hey mom,” Stiles spoke once the call connected, “I saw. Is dad working right now?” A slight pause. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll be home in a bit. Love you too.”

“I don’t blame her for wanting you home,” Derek said, but even as he did he felt his arm tighten around Stiles’s shoulders. He didn’t want Stiles to leave. It was irrational to think he could do a better job at protecting Stiles than his parents could, but that didn’t stop Derek from yearning for Stiles to stay.

Stiles seemed to feel the same reluctance, but he pulled away before Derek wouldn’t let him. “I guess I’ll see you Monday?” Stiles asked as he headed for the door. Lobo jumped up from the corner suddenly, racing to cut Stiles off. He plopped down in front of the door and stared at Stiles unblinking.

“Looks like you’re staying,” Derek teased, although he felt partially compelled to join his familiar in barring the way. Stiles snorted as Todd barreled into Lobo. The wolf barely flinched.

“Right. You haven’t met my parents. If I don’t go home they’ll hunt me down and lock me away for the rest of my young adult life.” Stiles deadpanned, and then leaned in to give Derek a kiss goodbye.

Derek dodged it in favour of grabbing his keys and jacket from the nearby hook. “Let’s go,” he signalled for Stiles and the familiars to head out the door. Stiles opened his mouth to protest but Derek silenced him with his sternest eyebrow furrow. “I’m not letting you go home alone. I’ll drop you off a block away from your house or something, but your safety is my top priority. Now move your ass.” Derek nudged Stiles’s butt forward and slowly the younger boy complied.

΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅

Isaac’s father had come home just as he was setting the table for dinner. He expected his father to begin his inquisition before Isaac even had a chance to greet him at the door, but his dad had made no indication that he was dwelling on the unanswered phone calls from the night before.

Now they sat across from each other, silently eating their meals. Isaac had reached for the salt shaker, and abruptly his father’s hand shot out to firmly grip his son’s wrist. “Where were you last night?” His father asked.

Isaac swallowed hard, heart slowly beginning its ritual panicked rhythm in anticipation for what he knew would follow.

“I fell asleep.” Isaac lied. His voice didn’t tremble. It didn’t matter if it was the truth or not. No excuse would be good enough. Isaac had stopped trying.

“You fell asleep.” His father replied calmly. His fingers loosened and Isaac’s hand fell hard on the table. His wrist felt numb. “Well, alright then.” His dad said. He picked up his napkin and dabbed at his lips before discarding it on his plate and pushing out from the table.

He left Isaac alone for the rest of the night.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I owe you guys so much more than this... but, here's the next chapter.

_Gregory Morrison. A lawyer. A father, husband. Had two kids. Went missing Monday night. Found Saturday evening, after an anonymous tip got called in at around noon._

_Gregory Morrison. Pronounced dead on the scene. Time of death anywhere between Friday night and Saturday morning. Body likely dumped in the forest. Familiar missing. Homicide._

Stiles poured over his father’s folder. He avoided the few pictures of Greg and his family, not wanting to add another face to his recurring nightmares. There wasn’t much in there that the media hadn’t already covered. The only thing worth any interest was the evidence list, which noted the presence of a strange, serrated blade close to the crime scene.

The blade itself was a murky blue-green, and jagged like a row of shark teeth. There was a hint of dried blood on it, and the handle was wooden, wrapped in a leather binding. In the picture, it rested at the foot of Gregory’s deceased body.

The blade itself did not match the marks found on Gregory. The blood on the blade was being sent in for testing, but it would take weeks, if not months, for the results.

Stiles sat back in his desk chair, scrubbing a hand over his face. Todd rested at his feet, pawing idly at the computer cords. His father wouldn’t be back from his shift until ten, and his mom was out with Melissa on a movie date. He still had a couple free hours, but his brain was overloaded and if he got caught with the case file, he’d be grounded for a century.

He gathered up the papers and placed them back in the folder in the exact sequence they’d originally been ordered in. He slipped the file into his father’s cabinet and then returned to his room.

There was definitely something happening in Beacon Hills. The count was up to three – three bodies, three missing familiars – coincidences be damned.

If they couldn’t figure out who was doing this, and why, there was no telling what that count would go up to. And who would be next.

΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅

Isaac wasn’t at school on Monday, or the next day. Scott would’ve been worried, but he held a regularly occurring text-messaging thread with Isaac throughout the day. He’d apparently caught another cold.

When Scott told Erica and Boyd that Isaac was sick, they cringed. Erica’s face scrunched up, mirrored in a sneer from Harley. Boyd’s jaw locked, gaze distant, Kunu snorting angrily.

“What’s wrong?” Scott asked, perplexed. They were seated in Harris’s science class, waiting for school to start. Erica flipped her hair over her shoulder and pinned Scott with a hard look.

“You and Isaac have gotten pretty close, don’t think I didn’t notice the other night,” she paused, taking a breath, “which I’m totally in support of. You guys are hot, and adorable, and Isaac’s one of the best guys I know. So if you hurt him, I will kill you. End of story.”

Scott’s mouth dried up and Copper shied away from her under the desk. “I would never hurt Isaac,” Scott said, distressed by the possibility.

Erica tilted her head, “Good. But there’s something you should probably know about him, if you’re going to be in his life.”

Boyd sent Erica a warning, grumbling and shaking his head. “Erica, it’s none of our business. We don’t even know if it’s true.”

Erica shot him a sour look, “It’s true. It’s fucked up, but it’s true. And Scott has a right to know. He’ll figure it out eventually, when he sees the bruises.”

 _The bruises_? Scott’s stomach tightened. He didn’t know what she was talking about, but he grasped what she was implying, and he didn’t like it.

“Erica,” Boyd warned sharply. Erica was about to flip him off when Stiles crossed over to them, knocking his shoulder into hers.

“Hey guys,” he greeted, “what’re you talking about? The murder?”

Even though Scott wanted Erica to expand on what she meant by bruises, he knew the change of subject would diffuse the tense air that was boiling beneath Erica and Boyd’s shared glare. “Yeah, uh, hey, isn’t Heathcliff Park the same one you were at when we came to pick you up?”

The question sparked something in Scott’s memory. He recalled Stiles shushing them, and ushering them away from the park. He watched Stiles now and knew, from the way his eyes fell to the floor, that something was wrong.

“Yeah, it was that park. Kinda creepy, huh?” Stiles answered.

Erica’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying that you were at the same park some guy got murdered?”

Stiles shrugged, “Yeah.”

“Around the same time he got murdered?” Erica asked, eyes sharpening.

“Yeah,” he shrugged again.

She tilted her head, and even Boyd looked over at Stiles. “Did you see anything?”

Scott continued to watch Stiles closely, anticipating the slight curl in the corner of Stiles’s lips that signalled a lie.

“No man, I was drunk. Didn’t see a thing,” Stiles replied. And there it was. The curl – the lie.

Scott was about to challenge him on it, but the bell sounded and Harris entered the room. They went to their respective seats, before Harris could give them detention for disrupting the beginning of his class.

Scott spent the rest of the period distracted. By the bruises. By the lie. The moment he was free, he was going to get answers.

Whether he liked them or not.

΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅

“Stiles! Wait up!” Scott called out. Stiles reactively jerked to a halt in the hall, incidentally colliding with Scott as he twisted around to see him. Scott rubbed a hand across his forehead where their brains had bumped. “I need to talk to you.”

“What’s up?” Stiles asked, peering around the hallway. All the other students continued on with their march to their next class, completely ignoring the two of them. Scott grabbed Stiles’s wrist and pulled him towards a free space near the lockers. Copper picked Todd up by the back of his neck and padded over to them. The fox wriggled, but didn’t complain.

“What the hell is going on with you?” Scott asked, voice pitched in frustration. Stiles balked at his friend’s directness.

“Uh…” He stuttered, cheeks warming under the scrutiny, “nothing?”

Scott frowned. Stiles couldn’t remember the last time his friend looked at him like that. “Stiles,” Scott started, frown melting into a soft, pleading gaze, “please, tell me what’s going on.” Copper slowly lowered Todd to the ground, and as soon as the fox’s paws touched down he reeled backwards into Stiles’s legs.

Stiles scanned around once more. A couple of girls had taken notice of them, leaning against the nearby lockers, eyes lightened with intrigue from Scott’s outburst. Stiles sighed. “Not here, okay? Later. Meet me by my jeep at lunch.”

Scott’s jaw tightened in protest, but the bell rang, signalling his defeat. “Fine,” he turned, jaw still locked and shoulders rigid. Copper lingered only a moment longer, snorting at Todd before turning tail and trailing after Scott.

Stiles wasn’t sure that he should tell Scott. He didn’t want to drag him into this mess again. But he also couldn’t keep lying to him – about the bodies, the park… he only wanted to keep one secret. And that was Derek.

The thought of Derek sparked Stiles’s legs to life and him and Todd quickly navigated the halls to get to his next class. The bell had already rung, marking Stiles as officially late. The moment they passed the threshold of the doorway, Lobo sprang towards him, nearly knocking into him.

“ _Fuuuuu_ -,” Stiles’s curse caught in his throat as he balanced himself and realized everyone was staring at him. Derek included. Amusement played in the depths of his green eyes, but his lips pursed.

“Late. Again,” Derek noted, marking it down on the attendance sheet. Todd’s butt wiggled high in the air and his body tensed, preparing to spring. Just as his back paws lifted off the ground, Stiles plucked him out of the air mid-jump and carried him to the nearest empty desk. “If you’re late one more time, I’m giving you detention.”

Stiles scoffed and Todd sneezed. “Yes sir,” Stiles saluted him, warranting a glower of warning from Derek. Stiles smirked, entirely too pleased with himself.

“Now that Mr. Stilinski has finally graced us with his presence, I want you all to pull out your copies of _King Lear_.”

΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅

“Stiles!” Stiles was halfway out the school’s front doors when he was interrupted by Erica’s sharp shout. This time he didn’t spin around, sufficiently avoiding another collision. “We need to talk,” she said once she’d caught up with him.

“I’m just on my way to talk to Scott actually,” Stiles tried, but Erica grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and yanked him towards the courtyard of the school. Harley stared at Todd until he huffed and followed after them.

Erica dragged Stiles over to a picnic table and threw him down. “Why am I being manhandled so much today, I don’t understand!”

“What did you see Friday?” She asked. Stiles groaned, dumping his face into his hands.

“Nothing,” he tried, but she reached over and pinched his arm. “Ow!” He cried, so she pinched him again. “ _Okay_ , fine. Fuck. Just stop pinching me! Your nails are like pincers!” He settled into his seat and Todd jumped up into his lap to avoid Harley’s incessant looming. “I saw… something. Honestly, I don’t really want to talk about it.”

Erica swore under her breath, cheeks flushing a balmy red. “Neither do I, but we have to,” she sighed, puffing out a breath to displace a strand of hair that had fallen over her eyes. She straightened her posture and forced herself to meet his gaze. “That kiss didn’t mean anything, it was just a sloppy, drunk mistake.”

Stiles blinked. His gut sank. “ _Wait_ …” he trailed off, brain buzzing, “we… kissed?”

Erica’s face scrunched up in disgust, “ _No_. No. Not us. Boyd and me. And you saw. You walked in and…” she paused, eyes tracing Stiles’s confused-ridden expression. “You don’t remember.”

“Nope,” Stiles said. Alcohol was great.

“Oh,” she replied. She shrugged, “well, now you know.”

They were silent for a moment – uncomfortably silent. Stiles wasn’t sure what to say and Erica kept her eyes glued to the ground. Warring emotions fluttered across her face. Stiles didn’t know her very well, but he felt the need to comfort her, so he reached out and placed his hand on her knee.

She looked up at him, expression a constant flux of emotions. “Why was it a mistake?” He asked. Boyd and Erica were best friends – a single kiss wouldn’t ruin that. Unless it was more complicated than that.

Erica bit at her lower lip, shrugging. “Just was. I was drunk. He was drunk. And I’m an idiot.” She wiped at her nose and then brushed Stiles’s hand away from her knee. “So why’d you get all defensive when I asked you if you saw anything Friday night?”

Stiles cursed under his breath. “No reason.”

Erica pinned him with narrowed eyes, “ _Stiles_.” Her voice was a growl.

He sighed, thinking it over for a moment. “Might as well just bring you with me,” he decided, standing from the table and digging out his keys from his pockets. “Come on, let’s go meet Scott.”

΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅

“That’s so fucking creepy,” Erica said, eyes wide. Stiles had told them everything from Friday night – hearing the scream, seeing a dark, shadowy figure slinking through the shadows, dragging something behind it. Going back the next day and remembering everything. The heavy feeling of dread, and calling in the smell of decay.

Scott did not like this. Not at all.

“You shouldn’t have even been there,” Scott lamented, “why’d you leave the house?”

Stiles’s eyes dropped. “I needed some space. Y’know, because of the break up.” It wasn’t the full truth, and Scott knew it, but he wouldn’t press. Whatever the reason, it all still happened. “I read through my dad’s file, but there wasn’t much there. Just this weird looking blade.”

Erica frowned. “What kind of blade?”

“The weird-looking kind,” Stiles retorted, and Erica reached over to pinch him. “Ow! I don’t know! It was, like, green, and jagged. I’ll take a picture on my phone and show you guys tomorrow.”

“Good, do that,” Erica said, and then opened the door to let herself and Harley out of the jeep. “I’m grabbing lunch before we have to head back to class.” Before she slammed the door, she looked over at Scott. “Join me?”

Scott felt his stomach flutter, but he stifled it and nodded. “We’ll talk later,” he said to Stiles, and then he and Copper joined Erica as she walked back towards the school. They stopped when they reached a picnic table. Erica sat down and motioned for Scott to join her.

“So, I guess I probably shouldn’t have said anything earlier, but you have a right to know,” she started. Scott’s fingernails dug into the soft flesh of his palms while he waited for Erica to continue. She stared at him for a long moment, considering. “Isaac’s dad abuses him.”

Scott’s throat clenched. His heart ached. “His dad…” he trailed off, anger flaring.

A low growl resonated in the depths of Copper’s chest. Erica eyed the familiar, then looked back at Scott. “We don’t know for sure, but we know Isaac. We see the bruises. Boyd tried to ask him about it once, but he stopped talking to us for an entire month. He knows we’re here for him. He’s never asked for help.” Erica’s justifications fell flat.

Scott couldn’t understand how they hadn’t done more. Called the police. Offered their homes to Isaac. Reported the abuse.

Scott felt sick. A heavy sadness clung to his lungs, suffocating him. He didn’t know what to do.

΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅΄΅

Isaac spent all day Monday and Tuesday wrapped up in his bedsheets with tissues plastered to his runny nose. His throat felt like it was stretched raw every time he swallowed, and his skin felt too tight and hot. His brain fizzled. Nothing but sleep brought him any sense of peace.

His father, surprisingly, had made him soup and bought lozenges for his throat. At one point, Isaac was pretty sure he heard his dad mumble, “get better soon, son.” Maybe he had hallucinated it, but it still twisted at his heart.

And Scott. Scott had been keeping Isaac company, even if it was only via text messages. Every so often, Isaac would open his phone to a: **miss you**. He’d think back to the small moments they’d shared, on their walk, at Erica’s house, and he found a truth in those two words.

It was enough that by Wednesday, Isaac was feeling well enough to return to school. On his way out the door, his father intercepted him. He rested his hand on Isaac’s shoulder, levelling him with a dark look.

“Everything you’ve missed, you’re going to make back, right son?” He asked, voice low and cold.

“Erica and Boyd are letting me borrow their notes from the classes I missed,” Isaac replied. His father’s lip twitched. “I-… I’ll catch up. It was only two days.”

“Well then,” his father said, letting his hand fall from Isaac’s shoulder. Isaac felt it now, the crushing pressure pressed against his shoulder. “Don’t disappoint me.”

Isaac had no intention of disappointing his father, but there seemed to be no way of avoiding it.


End file.
